


Professor Malfoy

by thevanishingpoint



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Tragedy, Bisexual Female Character, Bisexual Ginny Weasley, Bisexual Luna Lovegood, Character Death, Difficult Decisions, Elder Wand (Harry Potter), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Ghost Fred Weasley, Japanese Character(s), Latino Character, Love Triangles, Mild Sexual Content, Minor Fleur Delacour/Bill Weasley, Minor Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Multi, Near Death, Pining Draco Malfoy, Pining Harry Potter, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Professor Draco Malfoy, Professors, Psychological Trauma, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Supernatural Illnesses, The Deathly Hallows, Trans Male Character, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:07:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 94,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29323683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thevanishingpoint/pseuds/thevanishingpoint
Summary: In which Anya Rodríguez, a seventh year Ravenclaw who returns for her last year after the Battle of Hogwarts (alongside her best friends, Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood and Ari Thomas), gets assigned a cryptic task in relation to her newest Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, Draco Malfoy, and the resurgence of a powerful magical object makes her question whether she believes he has finally chosen where he stands.DISCLAIMER: Most of the characters, magical creatures/objects/spells, past events and such belong to the Harry Potter franchise. I do not own any of the characters with the exception of Anya Rodríguez, Ari Thomas, Marcus Bagman, Kiyomi Sato and a few others.Work originally posted on Wattpad (October 2020) by myself (@thevanishingpoint on both sites). This is an original work.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s), Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	1. The Aftertaste

The windows looked as if they had been dyed a bright shade of green as the Hogwarts Express moved swiftly across the English countryside. Anya Rodríguez was walking through the empty corridor, glancing into every compartment. She was holding her black cat, Sofía, who had fallen deeply asleep as soon as the train started moving. Every here and there, she would recognize some familiar faces and would stop for a few moments to greet her acquaintances. Some of them still bore signs of the Battle they fought just the year before, whether they were physical (Emma was missing two fingers on her left hand and Henry had a deep scar that ran across his right eye) or almost unnoticeable (when Anya tried to hug Noora from behind, she instinctively pulled out her wand and it took her a few seconds and four deep breaths to get her heart rate back to normal). After having walked across almost the entire length of the train, she also realised it wasn’t as crowded as it used to be. In her seven years at Hogwarts, she had never seen so many empty seats and grim faces aboard the Express; she could sense a plethora of emotions reflected on the other students’ faces, but nothing close to the excitement and elation that meant the start of a new year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

She glanced into one of the last compartments and finally came to a halt before the door. She carefully opened it with her free hand and as soon as she did, the three brightest faces in the Hogwarts Express greeted her with big smiles.

“Ann! Come here you fool! I’ve missed you so much”, said the girl furthest to the door. She jumped from her seat and dropped the newspaper she was holding in the process of doing so. Her fiery red hair shone brightly under the midday sun and her bright brown eyes sparkled at the sight of her best friend. Anya carefully set her cat on one of the empty seats and gave Ginny Weasley a bone-breaking embrace.

“You have no idea how much I’ve been looking forward to this d—“, Anya began stating before losing balance and falling to the ground. Ginny started laughing as her friend turned around, with a confused look on her face and her right hand on her pounding head. “What the—?”.

“ANYA!”

She fell onto the ground again, this time being pinned by a beautiful, dark skinned boy. He wrapped his arms around her torso and kissed all over her face, despite her uncontrollable laugh. Once she was able to get on her feet again, she gave her friend a proper hug.

“Oh how I’ve missed you, Anya Rodríguez.”

“Oh how I’ve missed _you_ , Ari Thomas. Let me take a look at your new hair!” she exclaimed as she gave her friend a twirl. Ari was tall, dark skinned and had the kindest jet black eyes Anya had ever seen. He had his right eyebrow and ear pierced and always wore at least three rings on each of his hands. The last time she had seen him, he had been wearing his black curly hair up to his shoulders: the boy before Anya was now rocking a freshly cut hairdo, the hair at the base of his skull nearly shaved and the curls at the top of his head growing in every direction.

“I figured I’d finally do it, since the secret’s out of the closet anyway,” he replied with a smirk on his face. “I sent an owl a month ago or so to the Headmistress, asking her to delete my deadname from the records and to please instruct the teachers to respect my new name. I’m kind of freaking out though, I don’t know what will I do if someone doesn’t understand that now I go by Ari and he/him pronouns.”

“Then we will explain it as many times as we need to so everyone understands. Easy.” —Anya turned around, facing the third and last person inside their compartment. She had been curiously observing them up until then, smiling at the whole situation. Her long, blonde, curly hair was braided and had little silver flowers entangled in it. She was wearing a pair of two-coloured glasses and was gently scratching Sofía’s back—. “Is it my turn now?”

“Of course it is, Loony, come here.”

Anya wrapped her arms around Luna Lovegood’s waist and placed her head on her shoulder. Luna giggled and started caressing her back. They had started calling her Loony just a few years back, although at first it had been a nickname used specially by some really annoying Slytherins and wasn’t necessarily said in a friendly tone. Anya, Ginny and Ari went out of their way to call out the instigators, who were usually Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle; nevertheless, Luna asked them to stop trying to make them reason and just start using that nickname themselves as a way to discourage them. “I’ve always been in love with the moon anyway”, she had said.

“So how were your summers?” Luna asked, as soon as Anya and her had both sat down.

Ginny suddenly looked down and started playing with her fingers. “You know… We’ve had quite a quiet summer. We’re still trying to adapt, specially George. It’s been the roughest on him and mom,” she replied, avoiding eye contact. “It didn’t help much the fact that dad spent most of the time at the Ministry, trying to solve crisis after crisis after what happened last year. I don’t blame him, though, I wish I’d had something to keep me distracted too.”

Luna, who was sitting right next to her, placed her hand on Ginny’s and intertwined their fingers. Ginny just squeezed her hand and gave her a longing stare and a weak smile.

“How about yours, Ann?” Ginny quickly added, noticing all of her friends were silently looking at her with worried eyes.

Anya perceived her urgency to change the subject and started talking, making her friends shift in their seats to be able to watch her as she spoke, which Ginny highly appreciated.

“Well, it was tough convincing my parents to let me return this year. They were both at Hogwarts during the Battle and saw how everything went down, but that didn’t help much. We had long talks and I couldn’t figure out a way to make them understand that we’re no longer in danger, that Voldemort is finally gone for good.”

She saw her three friends shudder at the mention of the Dark Lord’s name, and at that she spoke again. “Oh, come on guys, we’ve been over this already. He is gone, we can’t live in fear of a name anymore.”

“Yeah, you’re right, but it’s hard to get used to it. We couldn’t just say You-Know-Who’s… I mean, V-Voldemort’s name, so openly. It will take us a while,” Ari replied. “You already know how my summer’s gone. Nothing much, just had to reintroduce myself to my whole family and change my entire wardrobe. Although what was really hard was being yelled at by my mum’s side of the family. Dean defended me and almost hexed my uncle, though. We had a good laugh at the end of the day.”

“You don’t need them anyway, they don’t deserve you if they can’t accept who you are,” Anya answered while hugging him from the side. “Besides, you know our families are your families too.”

Ari shrugged but leaned his head towards Anya. She gave him a quick kiss on his forehead. He then added, “Luna, from what I’ve heard, your dad’s had the most interesting summer!”

“Oh, definitely. Now that the _Daily Prophet_ ’s editors are all banned from publishing while being investigated and taken to trial for being accomplices of Voldemort’s fear campaign, _The Quibbler’s_ been busier than ever and selling out every day,” she replied, with a dreamy smile on her face. _The Quibbler_ was her father’s newspaper and the only one who had believed in Harry Potter and Dumbledore when everyone else had turned on them after they told the world that Lord Voldemort had returned.

Just then, they heard the distinct sound of a trolley being pushed down the corridor. They looked at each other and smiled, expectantly.

“Anything from the trolley, my dears?” the lady asked, as she showed them the hugest assortment of candies and chocolates they’d ever laid their eyes upon.

“Yeah, we’ll take the whole lot,” Anya replied, as she took her purse out.

***

The first thing they noticed when they entered the Great Hall was its enchanted ceiling, which displayed a black, starry sky. The last time they’d been in there, the ceiling had been completely blown off and large parts of the walls had been missing. It now looked as beautiful as ever, having undergone a series of repairing spells.

The four friends waved each other goodbye, as Ginny turned right to sit at Gryffindor’s table, while Anya and Luna went over to Ravenclaw’s and Ari directed himself towards Slytherin’s. Anya sat down and gave her Head Girl’s badge one last polish.

The moment everyone was seated, the doors opened again as Professor Flitwick guided the first year’s to the front of the Hall. The group, which wasn’t as small as Anya had guessed it’d be, looked terrified but filled with excitement. They queued in front of the stool upon which the Sorting Hat rested. There was a moment of silence and then, it spoke:

“ _A new year at Hogwarts arrives_

_and with it, less challenging times:_

_last year a dreadful battle took place_

_but luckily, it ended with grace._

_Many lives were lost_

_and for that, we suffered the most._

_Let’s rejoice in the fact that the light won_

_as we realised we weren’t fighting alone:_

_these healing times call for friends and warmth_

_so please, do not lose your north.”_

Some with tears in their eyes and some comforting their friends, everyone clapped loudly. And after that heart-warming speech, the selection ceremony went by smoothly.

***

Once everyone’s plates had been cleared up, Professor McGonagall stood up from her chair and everyone felt silent.

“Welcome back all of you, we’re glad to see your faces once more. As always, we have some announcements to make. First, let’s welcome our new teachers: Professor Slughorn has agreed to stay at Hogwarts as your Potions teacher” —everyone politely clapped as Horace Slughorn stood up and gave a modest nod— “and as for your Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, please give a warm welcome to our newest professor”.

A tall man stood at the furthest end of the large table, as the other professors clapped. Anya hadn’t noticed him before because he had been looking at his plate for the entirety of the feast; but as soon as he rose, she gave a loud gasp alongside some of the other students.

“Draco Malfoy is our new professor?”


	2. The Ghost

There was a chorus of whispers around the Great Hall the minute McGonagall announced their new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Draco Malfoy was only a year older than the seventh year students and practically everyone had had bad experiences with him throughout their school years. Not to mention, he had sided with Voldemort during the Battle of Hogwarts. No one had heard from him or his family again since then.

“Luna, are you okay?” Anya asked, at the sight of her friend clenching her fists.

“It’s just… seeing him reminds me of the time I was held captive at _their_ house. He used to come down to the basement and feed us,” she answered.

Anya had never heard her friend speak with such hatred in her voice. She looked up at the professor’s table and caught Malfoy looking in their direction. She was usually good at reading other people’s emotions, but she couldn’t figure out what he was thinking. Was that regret in his eyes or was he savouring the memory of having held her friend captive?

Professor McGonagall noticed the air had changed after her announcement, and quickly spoke again. “Professor Malfoy has kindly agreed to share his knowledge in the Dark Arts with us. I expect you will all treat him with respect and decency.”

Anya turned around when she heard a loud snort from the table behind her back.

“Yeah, respect my ass,” she heard Ari exclaim.

Professor McGonagall gestured at Malfoy and he sat back down. He placed his chin on his hand and blankly stared ahead for the rest of the evening.

“We have some other news, that I know will please the Gryffindors the most. As you may all have heard, last year the Gryffindor ghost, Sir Nicholas, was fully beheaded during an encounter with some other ghosts” —at the mention of the Battle, the air thickened and some of the students over at the Ravenclaw table looked down. Anya turned her head to look at Malfoy, but he just kept staring into the nothingness—. “Over the summer, he has finally been accepted into the Headless Hunt and has already joined their ranks. So we are pleased to inform you we’ve found a replacement, so if you could all please give a warm welcome to—” she started saying, but she suddenly stopped talking when all the candles in the room went out simultaneously. Anya and Luna grabbed her wands and stood up, at the ready; some of their schoolmates did as well.

“Oh for Merlin’s sa—AAAAAAARGH.”

Every wand was pointed at the professors’s table at the sound of McGonagall’s scream. But as quickly as the candles had gone out, they were lit back up; and from the insides of the Headmistress’s atrium emerged a grinning Fred Weasley.

“You used to be more fun, Minerva,” he said, a mischievous smile lighting up his ghostly face.

There was a long silence in the Great Hall, but as soon as he had pronounced those words, every single student cheered and gave him a standing ovation. Fred Weasley had become a legend among the Hogwarts students ever since he and his brother, George Weasley, had quit school putting on an explosive show under Dolores Umbridge’s reign of terror, three years back.

Anya looked at Luna with her eyes wide open in surprise and they both looked at Ginny over at the Gryffindor table. She was covering her mouth with her hand and a few tears were streaming down her face. One of her Gryffindor friends, Marcus Bagman, hugged her as she kept staring in shock.

Professor McGonagall asked them to sit back down, and it took her a few minutes to regain her students’s attention.

“Now that I have your attention again,” —she looked at Fred and he just winked back at her— “let me introduce the first years to the new Gryffindor house ghost, Fred Weasley”.

She looked again at Fred. “I expect nothing but exceptional behaviour from you, Mr. Weasley, now that you have these new _responsibilities_ ,” she added.

“Oh, Minerva, you know me. I can’t help it. But maybe try again in a few years,” he replied, and went over to where the other ghosts were. McGonagall shook her head in disbelief, but Anya saw a gentle smile flash her lips.

“Well, I don’t intend on keeping you all here much longer. Just a few reminders: the Forbidden Forest is off grounds to any unaccompanied student, and Mr. Filch kindly asked me to remind you that you can all check out his rather large list of prohibited magic objects down at his office.”

She paused and hesitated before speaking again. “We’re all still rather distraught over last year’s events. We’re all still mourning and recovering from everything we’ve been through. So I must ask you, keep your friends close and try to take it easy, one day at a time. You must also know, you can reach out to your Head Boy and Girl or any of your teachers if you need to. These are times of healing and finding comfort in your loved ones; let’s be gentle with each other and keep in mind that we’re all safe now. Off you go!”

There Great Hall seemed to suddenly come to life as everyone got up, ready to go to bed. Anya and the other Head Boy (Ginny’s friend, Marcus) had already instructed the fifth year Prefects to escort the first years to their dormitories. They signalled the sixth and seventh year Prefects to stay just outside the entrance doors so they could give them further instructions. After everyone had left, Marcus joined Anya at the entrance.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he said, a handsome half smile on his face. He grabbed Anya’s hand and kissed her knuckles while looking into her hazel eyes.

“Hey, Marcus,” Anya answered distractively, as she was used to his continuous flirting strategies.

Marcus Bagman was the nephew of renowned Quidditch player and former Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, Ludo Bagman. He was just as spirited as his uncle, although he hadn’t followed his path of gambling and betting, hence he became a Head Boy. He did inherit the good looks, charming ways and Quidditch skills (although he never got the chance to prove himself, due to the fact that he was a Seeker and Harry Potter had got that position year after year). The previous year, on one of the long nights they’d had to spend over at the Room of Requirement, they had started a list of the most beautiful people in Dumbledore’s Army; Marcus had been mentioned over thirty times.

“How’s Ginny doing? I saw she was quite upset earlier,” Anya asked. Marcus stopped smiling and looked longingly at the Grand Staircase that Ginny had used to run up to her common room.

“Not so good. Her brother didn’t reach out to tell them he’s still around. She’s been trying to mourn his death ever since the summer started and this fell upon her like an iced filled bucket,” he replied.

Anya sighed as they both met up with the Prefects to assign them the corridors they had to patrol before going to bed.

***

Ginny was the first to leave the Great Hall. She was having a hard time finding the right stairs as her eyes were filled with tears, but she needed to get to her room as soon as possible so as to avoid anyone asking her what was going on. She knew she wouldn’t be able to stop crying if she started talking. She picked up her pace as she started hearing the faint echoes of the other students, who were going up the stairs to their dormitories.

She suddenly heard the voice she thought she’d never hear again. “Gin, wait up!”

She felt her heart beating in her ears as she pretended she hadn’t heard a thing and started trotting down the corridor. She slid behind a tapestry so she could get faster to the Gryffindor common room; she would’ve succeeded in doing so had it not been for her right foot, which suddenly got stuck to the floor. In spite of her struggles, she couldn’t move it. She looked up and saw Peeves, who showed her his tongue as he made a farting sound.

“Thank you, Edward,” she heard her dead brother’s voice say. It was coming from behind her back, but she couldn’t fully turn around.

“Edward? Who the fuck is Edward?” Ginny asked, muttering her first words since she had left dinner.

“Peeves. You didn’t think _that_ was his name, did you?” Fred asked as he hovered before her, forcing Ginny to look at him. “Yeah, I wouldn’t try to free myself of that: I gave Peeves one of George’s and I’s _Gluey Gum_ so you’re stuck there for the next ten minutes.”

Ginny sighed in frustration and turned her head to face the wall, avoiding eye contact as she was trying to hold back her tears. Fred placed himself in front of her eyes and Ginny looked to the other wall and they went along until she finally exploded.

“What do you want from me?”

“I want you to listen to me, Gin. Please,” he asked in a low hush, losing the smile his face always bore.

“You could’ve let us know you’re still around! We spent all summer grieving over you and you were probably pranking the elves down in the kitchens with Peeves!”

“Hey, they were really good pranks,” he added, but turned grim again as her sister gave him a hateful look. “I know, and I’m sorry. But I just… let me explain. The reason why I didn’t want anyone to know I’m _this_ is because I wasn’t planning on sticking around long. When I first woke up, I couldn’t understand what was happening to me. I woke up beside the Black Lake and Helena Ravenclaw was sitting right next to me. She was gentle enough to clear any doubt I had, except for the most important one: _why did I turn into a ghost and didn’t die like Remus or Tonks did?_ Apparently, it’s impossible to know: it just happens to some of us. But I didn’t want to live my afterlife like this. You don’t know how it’s like… it’s like I’m here but everything’s muffled. I can’t smell the food from the kitchens, I can’t dip my feet into the lake… and I can’t hug mum, play Gobstones with George or pinch your cheek when I want to annoy you.”

At that, Ginny couldn’t repress her tears and started silently crying. She finally looked up and into her brother’s eyes.

“I would’ve at least liked to know you’d be here in Hogwarts.”

“Well, to be truthful, I can’t really be anywhere else: every time I try to leave Hogwarts grounds, it’s like an invisible wall impedes me from doing so. And just a few days ago, Helena told me classes were starting again today and I felt a warm sensation all over my body and then I just _knew_ I had to stay here. For you. And then McGonagall asked me to be Gryffindor’s house ghost and I accepted the offer just yesterday.”

There was a long pause and all they could hear through the deserted corridor was Ginny’s occasional sniffs.

Fred decided to speak again, as anxious as her sister had ever seen him. “Ginny? Would you please forgive me? I’m here now, and I’m not planning on going anywhere.”

She wiped away her tears and gave him a half smile. “Well, even if I didn’t you’d probably make Peeves… oh, sorry, _Edward_ , follow me around with balloons filled with water until I forgave you. Might as well spare myself the trouble,” she said, smiling up at him. “But you _will_ let me send an owl to tell mum that you’re here. They’ll probably want to see you sometime.”

Fred beamed at her and his mischievous smile returned to his face. “Oh well, who isn’t to say I won’t make Peeves follow you around all year? Maybe I’ll instruct him to fire at you if I ever see you snuggling with anyone… from what I’ve heard, you’ve become quite the celebrity among the students after the battle.”

“Don’t make me regret forgiving you, Frederick,” Ginny added while she started making her way to the Fat Lady’s portrait.

“Don’t you worry, Ginevra, we still have the entire year ahead of us for you to regret forgiving me anyway,” he added, as he received one last laugh from her sister before she went into her common room.


	3. The Request

The next morning, when Anya and Luna went down to their common room, they smiled as they witnessed the humming sound of dozens of students getting ready for their day and waiting on their friends to go get breakfast. For a moment, it was like they were on their 3rd year again, all her older friends still at Hogwarts and nothing to worry about but their classes and Quidditch.

They made their way downstairs, trying to predict which of their classes they’d have that day. When they reached the Great Hall, they made their way to Ravenclaw’s table and sat right next to Ari and Ginny, who were already there, drinking pumpkin juice. That same morning, they had read an announcement just outside the entrance of the Great Hall that proclaimed that students were to be seated at any table, except during dinner, since the extreme antagonism between houses (specially Gryffindor and Slytherin) was what made some students turn against Hogwarts the year before.

“Morning everyone!” Luna exclaimed, a warming smile on her face. She looked at her three friends and noticed something odd. “Are you okay, Ginny?”

Ginny was frowning and violently spreading butter over her toast. Her hair wasn’t as neat as it usually was and her stare was fixed on that task.

“Woah, calm down Gin; what has that poor piece of toast ever done to you?” Anya said jokingly, as she removed her plate from her friend. “You’re not to be trusted around butter apparently; don’t worry though, I’ll take that toast from you, for your own sake.” She then proceeded to take a huge bite and beamed at her friend.

“She’s just grumpy because she didn’t have the most peaceful awakening,” Ari added while grinning. He wasn’t taken aback by Ginny’s glare. “Fred hired the ghost orchestra to act as her alarm this morning. Trumpets and all.”

Ari and Anya couldn’t hold back her laughter and some of the other students looked at them, curiously. But Ginny was now holding onto her fork with an excessive amount of strength as she stared down at the two of them. Luna, however, placed a strand of her gorgeous red hair behind her ear and gently hugged her from the side.

“Ow, I’m really sorry, Gin; I can accompany you back to your dormitory later this afternoon if you need to get some more sleep,” she said, staring into her mesmerizing eyes.

Ginny just smiled back at her, feeling all her anger melt away, and looked into her eyes for a few seconds, before kissing her forehead and muttering “thank you, Loony”.

Just then, Professor Flitwick walked behind them, handing out their schedules. They quickly grabbed them, eager to see what their classes for the day would be.

“Well, it’s not too bad,” Anya said after a long pause where everyone was reading their own. “Potions, Care of Magical Creatures, Defence Against the Dark Arts and Astronomy today.”

"Ugh, I have a three-hour History of Magic class," Ginny sighed, putting down her schedule. "At least we'll see each other in Astronomy and Defence Against the Dark Arts."

“Don’t be too sad, Gin, we share most classes just as the previous years,” Ari added with a smile. That seemed to cheer her up a bit.

They were interrupted when Flitwick cleared his throat. “Rodríguez, the Headmistress wants to see you in her office before your first class today.”

The four of them frowned, wondering what could McGonagall want from Anya the first day back.

“Oh, someone’s got in trouble already? Were you snogging Marcus in some deserted corridor? That’s not very Head Girl of you, Miss Rodríguez,” Ari teased her, making Luna and Ginny laugh.

“You think you’re really funny, don’t you?” she added, a malicious grin forming on her face. Ari suddenly stopped laughing. “ _Ten points from Slytherin._ ”

“Oh, no, you didn’t,” Ari said in disbelief, as he jerked his head towards the big, green hourglass that stood behind the professor’s table. He opened his mouth in awe as he saw a pinch of green sand descending onto the lower half.

He glowered at her while her friends kept laughing, their stomachs hurting as they had to clutch them. Anya, while still laughing, got herself up and headed towards the entrance.

“Thank you for reminding me what _Head Girl behaviour_ is, Mister Thomas!” she shouted back at him.

***

Anya had spent the last ten minutes trying to figure out the new password to McGonagall’s office. She had tried every candy she could think of, even Muggle ones, but was unsuccessful seeing the gargoyles didn’t seem to be even close to letting her through.

She jumped when she heard a voice from behind her. “You should try with ‘Mary Shelley’. She’s been really into Muggle literature recently.”

She smiled at the sight of Fred. “Hey, kiddo,” he added as he winked at her.

“Hey, you,” she replied. “Thank you for the tip.”

“No problem! I’ve got to run because I have some business to attend to with Peeves, but keep in trouble for me, would you?” he replied as he flew backwards.

Anya just laughed and waved him goodbye. She then proceeded to say the password and went to the stairs which would take her to McGonagall’s office.

She knocked and proceeded to open the door when she was granted permission to do so. The office was just as she remembered, Fawkes hanging out behind the desk and the Pensieve half hidden in one of the cupboards. The only thing she noticed had changed was a huge portrait which was hung behind McGonagall: it was Albus Dumbledore, who was sitting down and smiled at her as she acknowledged it.

“Thank you for meeting me, Miss Rodríguez,” McGonagall said, greeting her as Anya came closer to her wooden desk. “Sherbet lemon?”

Anya politely declined, sitting down in front of her. “Is there something wrong, Professor?”

McGonagall took her time unwrapping her candy, and Anya patiently waited for her. “ _It must be something important, or else she wouldn’t be stalling this much,”_ she thought.

“Well, Miss Rodríguez, the reason I summoned you here is because I have a rather sensitive task at hand for you to accomplish.”

“Whatever I can do to help, Professor.”

“I knew you’d be willing to comply. Don’t think we’ve forgotten what you’ve done for all of us during last year’s battle,” she said as she smiled at her.

Anya smiled back, although it wasn’t something she was particularly proud of having achieved; she still had nightmares about it and felt a rush of guilt and sadness every time she thought back on it.

She continued. “I wouldn’t trust anyone else with this task. As Head Girl, this is something you’re more than capable of doing,” she added and cut her off as she was about to ask her professor what she then clarified. “I didn’t include Mr. Bagman because I know my kind. Gryffindors can sometimes be a little… _stubborn.”_

 _“If that isn’t the understatement of the year,”_ Anya thought to herself.

“As you have learned yesterday, we have a new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor.” —Anya shuddered as she thought of Draco Malfoy. Why was he there? How would she manage to look at him after what went down between them during the battle? —. “He wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t proven he can be trusted. However, the Order, including your parents, insist that we keep an eye out, just in case. We all feel safer than ever now, but seeing as it hasn’t been a year since the downfall of Lord Voldemort, one can never be too careful.

“With that being said, as you may be aware of, we’re trying to rebuild magical bonds and encouraging cooperation among all wizards and witches. We have all learnt what happens when we don’t. So you may understand why I can’t just send a supervisor, or just myself, over to Mister Malfoy’s classes. We need him to know we trust him and we need him to know he is safe; Merlin knows what would happen if we didn’t give him a second chance to redeem himself. I am, and I know Dumbledore was too, a firm believer in second chances.”

As Anya followed McGonagall’s speech, her mind was running at an alarming pace. On one hand, she still couldn’t believe they had let him return to Hogwarts to teach. He, who stayed silent when his father slipped Tom Riddle’s diary in her best friend’s bag, which led to her almost dying; he, who had taken part in the Inquisitorial Squad and had stood next to Umbridge as she tortured all of her friends and members of Dumbledore’s Army; he, who had been a crucial ally to the Death Eaters who had barged into Hogwarts and led to the murder of Dumbledore on her fifth year. _He, who was a Death Eater himself and had sided with Voldemort when the time came and he had to pick a side._

But on the other hand, she didn’t know what she’d do when she finally stood before him. Not after they battled last year, _not after what happened between them in the battlefield._ She secretly hoped he wouldn’t remember, since he never actually seemed to even know her name. But how couldn’t he? It was engraved so deeply in Anya’s head that she couldn’t possible think it wouldn’t be on his, too.

She suddenly snapped out of her trance, as McGongall raised her tone. “So, Miss Rodríguez, can the Order count on you?”

She looked up, still slightly dazed as she noticed she had been staring at the same spot in the wooden desk for some part of McGonagall’s speech. She blushed, slapping herself mentally for not paying attention.

“I—I’m sorry, Professor, what is it exactly that the Order needs me to do?”

McGonagall took off her glasses and set them on the table. She looked at her, apprehensively. “We want you to discreetly pry into Mister Malfoy during his classes and report back to us.”


	4. Professor Malfoy

Anya suddenly tensed up as she stared at McGonagall in awe.

“Professor, I—I can’t—not after what happened—,” she started mumbling before her professor spoke up again.

“We’re all aware of how draining and demanding this task may be to you, Miss Rodríguez,” she stated. “This is the reason why we weren’t expecting you to give us an answer just now. But please, I encourage you to dwell on this topic and give us an answer when you’re ready to do so. We all trust you enough to know you would be able to pull through it, if you were to be willing to collaborate.”

Anya laid back in her chair, staring at her feet. She couldn’t form a single thought, her head occupied with a million different questions. Just yesterday, while on board of the Hogwarts Express, she had felt relieved as she thought she’d finally get a peaceful school year and would be able to focus on her studies; no more plotting, no more duelling, no more hiding. She was actually looking forward to it; but this request steered her away from that quiet path, once again.

“Please, Miss Rodríguez, you ought to leave now if you don’t want to be late for your first class,” McGonagall said, while checking the time.

As Anya was getting up and grabbing her bag, she was held back when McGonagall spoke to her again. “Whether you choose to accept this task or not, I must ask you only one thing: please don’t speak to anyone about this conversation. Not even your friends. It is of vital importance that it remains between us and the Order.”

Anya, her head still clouded with questions, could only nod once before disappearing through the door.

***

“So what did McGonagall want, this morning?” Luna inquired, as Anya and her were making their way up towards the castle, after a rather exhausting Care of Magical Creatures lesson.

Ever since last year, Hagrid had managed to convince his half-brother, Grawp, to stay at Hogwarts where they could take care of each other. He had been appointed his teaching assistant, after McGongall gave them their blessing, rather hesitantly at first. No teacher nor parent complained at that, having seen him so ferociously defending Hogwarts during the battle. The problem was, Grawp still seemed to struggle understanding personal space and boundaries. The class had to be stopped at least six times, when Grawp caught a liking for any of the students and wanted to show him or her his collection of trash. Nonetheless, Hagrid said it was a great way of studying giants and seeing them as worthy creatures and not just the evil, blood-thirsty beings they’d always been depicted as.

“Oh, not much,” Anya answered, as she was trying to come up with an excuse. “She just wanted to talk about some of my duties as Head Girl, that’s all.”

Luna looked into her eyes and stared at them for a few seconds. She then turned her head with a shrug of her shoulders, but just for a moment Anya was certain Luna just _knew._ She seemed to always know.

When they reached the entrance of the Great Hall, they were joined by Ginny and Ari, who were returning from their History of Magic class, looking sleepily at the floor. Ginny kept walking and collapsed against Luna.

“For fuck’s sake, watch where you’re go—Shit, sorry Lu, I didn’t realise it was you,” Ginny said as she raised her head to glare at the person she had bumped into, her face suddenly relaxing when she saw it was Luna.

As a reflex, Luna had grabbed onto Ginny’s right arm and left hip, so as not to fall down. She regained her balance and the hand that was grabbing her friend’s arm travelled down the length of it until she dropped it. They kept staring at each other, just a few centimetres in between the two. Ari, who was watching the scene with a grin, suddenly cleared his throat. They both pulled away instantly and Luna turned her head, successfully hiding her blushing cheeks from her friends.

“So…” Ari started, looking with amusement at the two of them. “Shall we?”

The three nodded and made their way towards their next class. Thankfully for Ginny and Luna, Anya was too deep in her thoughts to have noticed the tense scene her two friends had just starred; she would’ve made a witty comment had she noticed it. Ari, on the other hand, kept glancing back and forth at each of his friends, bemused and unable to utter a single word.

Anya had been so worriedly going over her conversation with McGonagall that she didn’t even think about where she was going, until they reached the door and she realised she was about to have her first Defence Against the Dark Arts class with Draco Malfoy.

Her heart beating fast, Anya entered the room alongside Luna and they sat down, none of them talking. Before Ari could do the same, Ginny put her arm in front of his chest and made him stop at the entrance. He raised a brow at her friend.

“I swear, Ari, if you make as much as a _single_ comment about earlier, I’m going Kedavra on your ass,” she warned him. He let out a laugh, hugged her from her shoulders and entered the classroom.

Not five minutes had passed that they heard someone enter the classroom and close the door behind him. Anya didn’t dare look back. When she looked up, she saw a dashing blonde man, in an all-black suit standing before them. He took his time reaching the front of the room and when he got to his desk, he slid his fingers along the edge of the table before leaning lazily against it and crossing his arms.

“Good afternoon, class,” he enunciated. He didn’t need to raise his voice because the class fell silent as soon as he set foot in the room. “Most of you may remember me from my times here. For those who don’t, my name is Draco Lucius Malfoy, but you may refer to me as ‘Sir’.”

He licked his lips and looked at each of his students. Anya snorted, turned her head and noticed Ginny’s knuckles were white. Luna noticed too, because she grabbed her friend’s hand and placed it on her lap, brushing her thumb against it. Anya noticed Ginny’s shoulders relaxed.

“Now, before we start, I’d like to know your names, although I probably won’t be able to remember all of them. Here I have a list of all my advanced students; once I call your names, please raise your hand.”

He started calling names and was only interrupted by the faint _here’_ s his students muttered.

“Ari Thomas?” he called out. Ari raised his hand and when Draco looked back at him, he didn’t flinch or take his eyes off of him. The professor looked startled at first and had to read his list a second time.

“I was under the impression Dean Thomas had a sister,” he said, thinking out loud.

“Well, he certainly doesn’t,” Anya blurted out, jumping in defense of her friend.

Draco seemed to notice her for the first time. “I gathered as much, Miss…?”

“Rodríguez,” Anya replied. “You skipped my name.”

Draco looked down at his list. “Azul Anya Rodríguez, is it?” he asked, struggling to pronounce her first name.

“Yes,” she answered, defiantly.

“Yes, _Sir,”_ he pointed.

Anya grinned. “There’s no need to call me _Sir_ , professor. Plus, I don’t really think it’s grammatically correct.”

She heard a few of her Ravenclaw friends gasp behind her, and her three best friends looked at her with an alarmed face. But Anya didn’t regret it: not after what he and his family had done to Luna the year before and certainly not after what had gone down between the two during the battle. She now didn’t care whether he remembered or not: she _wanted_ him to remember, to know not everyone would buy his bad-boy-to-good-boy act.

The two held a staring contest for a few seconds, before Draco rolled his tongue against the inside of his cheek and looked away. Once he had started talking, Anya felt a sudden pinch on her right side.

“Are you _fucking mental_?” Ari snapped, once he was sure the professor wasn’t paying attention.

“What?” Anya asked, shrugging.

“What do you mean ‘ _what’?_ ” he inquired, with a high pitched voice that mimicked his friend’s. “What was that all about?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ari,” Anya replied, absentmindedly, unfolding her scroll and wetting her quill. Ari gave her one last bewildered look and turned her back again.

As the class went on, Anya couldn’t maintain her focus for long. Her mind wandered each time she looked at her newest professor, wondering what did McGonagall know that she didn’t and why she so blindly trusted him. Before her, Anya saw the same guy she’d known throughout the six years they shared as Hogwarts students: a tall, elegant, blonde boy who paced slowly as if there wasn’t a hurry in the world; his long fingers decorated with silver and green rings, which glimmered under the sunlight that crept into the room as he moved his hands while speaking; his nearly white hair, which he sleeked back every few minutes, letting his hand rest at the curve between his neck and the base of his head; his grey eyes, which could’ve been airy like a bonfire’s smoke, cold like an iceberg in the middle of the Arctic. And the fainting black mark inked on his left forearm, as a permanent reminder of who he’d chosen to be. That’s all Anya could picture him as; the same frail, scared boy he’d always been but tried to hide, scared of his father’s and his own shadows.

She suddenly snapped back to reality when a piece of parchment slid across the table and onto her hand; she unfolded it and glanced at the note, which read “ _Are you okay, love?”_. She furrowed her eyebrows as she looked to her right, trying to decipher who’d sent it. She caught Marcus’s eyes and noticed him casually leaned back on his chair, a smirk on his face, but from the way he was looking at her, she knew he was actually worried. She smiled at him and nodded, although she wasn’t quite sure she meant it.

The next thirty minutes went by quicker than she thought and she found herself actually enjoying that lesson’s subject (Animagi).

Once the class was over, she got up and put her parchment and quill back in her bag and motioned her friends to leave the room. She stopped at the mention of her name and turned around to see Draco Malfoy standing behind her.

“Miss Rodríguez, sit back down. You and I will have a word.”


	5. Green Veins and Almond Eyes

The only time Anya had ever despised having been appointed Head Girl was right that moment, when she knew she had to keep her composure but her palm longed to meet Draco Malfoy’s cheek so badly.

She was sitting down, her fingers intertwined and her eyes fixed on her professor’s, while she waited to hear why he had made her stay after class. He, however, didn’t seem too keen on starting the conversation; he had his arms crossed over his chest (a posture that, combined with his tailored suit, made his biceps stand out, Anya noticed before blowing that thought off her head) and was eating a green apple in such a slow manner that the girl thought he’d be great at rationing food during a time of war.

“ _Sir,”_ Anya started, getting annoyed but forcing herself to keep any residue of irony off her voice. “Is there any particular reason you made me stay or am I here just to learn the graceful art of _apple-eating?”_

“ _So much for keeping your composure,”_ Anya thought to herself.

With two big bites, Draco was finished with his apple and tossed it in the nearest bin.

“Well, Miss Rodríguez, I’m sure there’s far more gracious teachers from whom you can learn that subject,” he sneered. “The reason you’re here is because I noticed your commentary during my class and I did not find it particularly amusing. Is there anything you’d like to tell me?”

There was a long list of things Anya wanted to tell him: the first being rather long sentences which consisted of particularly unfitting words that would certainly get her detention at best.

But she also wanted to shout at him, for having been an accomplice to Luna’s kidnap and Hermione Granger’s torture at the hands of his aunt. For being the reason why Luna awoke almost every night, panting and clenching her heart for it felt like it would burst out of her chest any second.

Her eyes usually looked as if she had entrapped the purest of honeys inside her irises; that moment, they looked the ochre colour the sky painted itself in before a storm unleashed upon the Earth.

“No, Sir, nothing at all. If that was all, I’d really like to go back to my fr—” she replied, before being abruptly interrupted by Draco, who reached the other side of her desk with a single long stride.

Although having been caught by surprise, Anya simply raised her head up to her professor’s eyes. He was now slightly leaning forward, his arms perched on either sides of the wooden table. He had both his forearms facing her, giving her a clear view of the Dark Mark peeking through his rolled up sleeves. His skin was so pale, she could count the veins on his arms, which were now protruding and looked green; as if instead of blood, there was poison flowing through them.

“I thought you were smarter than this, being a Ravenclaw—” he blurted out, before Anya interrupted him.

“I am, do not worry. I am smart enough to know better than to blindly trust the first person that comes with his tail between his legs and claims he’s changed,” Anya replied, not being able to hold back her thoughts at his last comment.

“Look, Anya… I mean, _Rodríguez._ I don’t know what your problem is with me, but you should know McGonagall trusts me enough to let me in charge of her students. If I were you, I’d stop it with the witty comebacks and focus on actually learning something in my classes. Whatever you think you know, you don’t. I don’t have the time to deal with know-it-all Ravenclaws, specially not _you.”_

He suddenly stopped talking, as if realising he had just said something he didn’t mean to. _What the fuck did “specially not you” even mean?_

Draco stepped back and sighed. The orange and pink hues from the sunset cast shadows across the left side of his face and for a moment, he looked defenceless. He ran his hand through his hair, which was parted in half; two blonde strands outlined his forehead. He looked as if he was trying to regain his composure.

“You can go now, Rodríguez,” he muttered while looking out the window. The last ray of sunshine peered through the glass and into his grey eyes; Anya noticed a subtle greenish hue near the centre of his iris, which absorbed every remnant of daylight.

She stood up and headed towards the door. As her hand was hovering over the handle, a sudden thought made her turn around. “Professor, you did remember my name, didn’t you? That’s why you said you didn’t have time to deal with Ravenclaws ‘ _specially me’?_ ”

She didn’t look down as his piercing eyes met hers. She just needed to know whether he remembered what happened during the Battle, whether he regretted it. Whether he had actually changed.

Anya thought she’d seen him clenching his jaw, but if he did, it was unclenched rapidly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Rodríguez. You were probably not that special back when I was studying here.”

***

Ari was walking towards the Hufflepuff common room, feeling the thump of his heart on his ears. He had to brush his hands on his robes several times, trying to keep them dry and miserably failing at that. His left hand was fiddling with his rings and his right hand held a box that had tiny holes all over its lid. He noticed another Hufflepuff boy walking in his same direction and tried evening his breathing to his.

Once he had gone past the painting that led to the kitchens, he stood beside the barrels at the entrance of the common room, tapping his foot nervously. It was the first time he was going to see her after coming out.

The door opened and Kiyomi Sato walked out, her shiny black hair elegantly pinned to her head in a low bun and her beautiful almond eyes outlined with a slim black eyeliner. She looked either way and started going on Ari’s direction when she spotted him.

Ari couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her; she looked as breath-taking as she did back in the Hogwarts Express during their third year, when they had first met. The same black eyes that reminded him of a starry night, the same welcoming smile that made one want to stare at it forever. He remembered their fingers touching when they both kneeled down to caress Anya’s cat, Sofía, and how their surprised eyes had met for the first time; black melting into black, their different shades mixing and becoming one.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Ari greeted.

“Hello there, _handsome.”_

Ari’s stomach twirled when his girlfriend leaned and pecked him on the lips; he couldn’t tell whether it was because of that kiss or the fact she had called him handsome.

They started walking towards the entrance and strolled around the castle grounds for a bit, trying to find their favourite sitting spot. Once they did, none of them dared to start speaking.

“I’ve missed you, Ky,” he suddenly admitted.

“I’ve missed you too, Ari. You said you wanted to talk?”

Ari inhaled and began speaking. “Yes, I did. I don’t even know where to start, but I’ll try. So… I know I had told you in my letters that some things had… _changed._ And I know it’s a lot to take in, hell, it even is a lot for me, but I just wanted to see your reaction upon meeting for the first time again. My family’s got quite different opinions, you see, but my mum, dad and Dean have been so supportive throughout it all, the only person I was missing was you… you see, I know you’ve always liked girls but I’m just the same guy I’ve always been, the only difference is now I look in the mirror and actually _feel_ like myself. And there’s also the fact that I don’t know whether you like my new image or no—“

His incoherent babble was interrupted when Ky placed one of her warm hands on his cheek. She looked straight into his eyes, as they’ve always done when they couldn’t find the right words to say. He immediately leant into her hand, closing his eyes and letting her thumb brush over his blushing cheeks.

“Ari,” she started and made him open his eyes. “I can only imagine what you’ve been through during the summer. Please, do not worry about me even for a second; you’ve already got enough on your plate as it is.”

She dropped her hand and slid closer to him. “I didn’t know what I’d feel when I met the _real_ you for the first time after the holidays. But today, when I saw you standing next to my common room, I got the same feeling I’ve always got whenever I saw you. I know you’re still you and therefore, I know I still love you the same.”

Ari had to look down because his tears were clouding his eyes. Kiyomi noticed it and intertwined her fingers with his. “This will take me a while to get used to, being in love with a man. I need to adjust to that because some things may change between us now, but please trust me when I say that I love you the same. I’ll need some time but I want to be with you, more than ever. You’re the same boy I fell for during our third year, only now you’re the most confident version of yourself. And I love that and it makes me incredibly happy.”

Ari looked at her, unable to believe his luck. “Of course, Ky, you take the time you need. I’ll wait for as long as you need me to, I don’t care.” He turned his head towards the lake as he spoke his following words. “Thank you. Thank you for being so understanding, supportive and the most amazing woman in general.”

She made him turn his head and face her. “Thank you for being honest with yourself and being so unapologetically _you.”_

He brushed his thumb against her hand and looked at her, his eyes glimmering even though they were sitting under the shadow of a tree. She suddenly looked down, alarmed. “Why is that box moving?”

“Shit, I almost forgot. I got you a present,” he exclaimed, while grabbing the holey box and handing it to her.

She lifted the lid and her eyebrows almost touched the few strands of baby hairs that managed to escape her hair tie. “No way you got me a frog! I’ve always wanted one! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

The sun shone brightly in the sky, but Ari’s smile shone brighter. He grabbed Ky’s waist and puller her in, the wind ruffling their hairs and creating an explosive black and brown painting. He gently placed his hands on both sides of her face, drying her tears with his thumbs. They melted into each other in a passionate kiss, and for that moment, they were the happiest people in the world.

***

Anya met her three friends when they were entering the Great Hall for dinner. Luna and Ginny were engaged in a conversation about thestrals, while Ari was absentmindedly listening to them, unable to wipe the smile off his face. She was about to ask him about it, but they had to part ways when they reached the tables.

After dinner, the four of them headed towards the Astronomy Tower for their last lesson of the day.

“I didn’t know Slytherins could smile,” Anya scoffed, jokingly hitting her friend’s ribs with her elbow.

“I didn’t know Ravenclaws could be such a pain in the ass,” Ari responded, his smile widening.

“You better watch it, Thomas,” Luna replied. She was the least sarcastic out of the three, but after all those years she had picked up on a few tips. “Are you going to tell us what’s got you so bubbly?”

Anya stopped on her tracks. “I want to hear all about it, but I have something to do first. Please wait for me to tell the story,” she said, partially shouting it since she had already turned around and began rapidly pacing on the opposite direction.

She hurried through the corridors and misleading stairs until she reached the place she was looking for. She uttered the password, began going up the stairs skipping some steps and caught her breath before knocking on the door.

“Professor McGonagall?” she questioned from the door, as soon as she was signalled to enter. “I accept the task; I’ll spy on Professor Malfoy.”


	6. Kitten Kisses

Anya awoke that Thursday morning to the faint sunshine that peered through the canopy on her four-poster bed and the gentle hoots of the owls that were returning from their hunting excursions. She rapidly closed her eyes as the opening of the bed’s drapes widened and the sun reached her with more intensity; she felt her mattress weigh down as something started walking towards her. She didn’t open her eyes until she felt a rough tongue licking the side of her face and smiled as she welcomed her cat who proceeded to nest beside her, using her neck as a pillow. She brushed through its shiny black fur and felt her purring under her fingers. She let herself enjoy the peaceful morning, for she dreaded what she had to do next.

Once she had told McGonagall she would take on the task that was given to her, her professor gave her some pretty specific instructions: she was to gain his trust by any means available and gather as much information as she could. She then had to report back everything she discovered, whether she deemed it important or not. Anya knew it was easier said than done: and it didn’t really help her case the fact that, the first three classes they shared, they’d had at least one not-so-friendly exchange. It wasn’t always her who started it: he just sometimes made some extremely rude remarks about Muggle-borns that she could just not tolerate. He was always surprised, almost like he didn’t notice his comments were hurtful until his student contradicted his statements. When two weeks had gone by and Anya hadn’t reported back, McGonagall spoke to her briefly after one of her Transfigurations lessons and _kindly_ asked her to try to get near him. Now she had no excuse: she had to do it that day.

Her train of thoughts was suddenly interrupted when, once again, she felt the same rough tongue brush her cheeks. She kept caressing her pet’s back, until she felt her tongue nearing her ear.

“Hey, Sofía, get your tongue off my ea—WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?”

She opened her eyes to tell her cat off, but jumped back and hit her head against her bed’s headboard. That startled Sofía, who angrily meowed at her and jumped onto Luna’s bed, who immediately raised her covers for the cat to get under them and cuddle together. When her heart rate had gone back to normal, she glared at Ari and Ginny who were laughing at the top of their lungs and drying the tears off their eyes.

“You… should’ve… seen your face,” Ginny said, trying to form coherent words in the midst of her howls.

“Why the fuck would you lick my face?” Anya replied, looking at Ari while getting out from her bed.

He took a step back, trying to hold back his laughter. “Well… I came here and saw you sleeping and then Ginny suggested she could transfigure my tongue to feel like Sofía’s and I just couldn’t pass out on the opportunity.”

“It was definitely worth it,” Ginny answered, still clutching her stomach.

Anya reached her nightstand with one long stride, grabbed her wand and yelled “ _Oppugno!”_ while pointing at a pile of pillows near the end of her bed. They rose up in the air and, to Ginny and Ari’s horror, started hitting them, forcing them to run in fear. Accompanied by the sound of Luna’s soft giggles, they ran out of the girls’ dormitory and went down the staircase. From up there, they could hear the laughter of the Ravenclaws who were down in their common room mixed with their friends’ swears, until they stopped when Anya lowered her wand.

“You’re pure evil, Anya Rodríguez!” she heard the red haired girl shout from outside her door.

“But you deserved it!” she replied, and got a few more giggles in response.

Once she had got dressed, Luna and her made their way towards their common room, where Ari and Ginny were waiting for them. Together, they went down to the Great Hall to have breakfast.

Once they were seated, a grinning Fred Weasley approached them.

“Good morning sunshines! The day looks perfect to misbehave, wouldn’t you think?”

“I thought you would start being responsible now that you’re the Gryffindor ghost, Freddie,” Luna replied, with a wide smile. Her and Ginny were the only ones who ever called him that.

“Oh, please, you’re offending me,” he retorted, dramatically opening his mouth while taking his hand towards his heart. “Responsible is my middle name… Fred Responsible Weasley, thank you very much.”

The group laughed. “You don’t have to worry, your legacy’s being carried on amazingly,” Luna said, looking at Ginny.

“Yeah, your sister right here transfigured my tongue to look like Anya’s cat’s and I gave her quite the good morning kiss,” Ari answered with a grin.

Anya rolled her eyes and poured herself another cup of tea, while Fred looked marvelled.

“I’ve never been so proud in my entire life, little Ginny. My job here is done, all the knowledge I could pass onto you has been taught,” he said, while histrionically bowing before his little sister.

They chatted for a few more minutes, before Fred excused himself saying he had some “business to attend to”. When he disappeared through the wall behind them, they saw Marcus Bagman sitting a few metres away from them, engaged in what appeared to be a flirty conversation with a blonde Slytherin girl that was curling the ends of her hair with her fingers as she talked. At that same moment, Marcus looked towards the group, got up from his seat and, with a few words, said goodbye to the beautiful girl who looked disappointed as she headed back towards her friends.

He sat down right next to Anya as he smoothly winged his arm around her shoulders and gallantly winked at her. “Hello, gorgeous… and friends,” he greeted, sticking his tongue out to a teasing Ginny who was wiggling her eyebrows in his direction.

“Hey, Marcus,” Anya greeted back, giving him a small peck on the cheek.

He smiled at her, unconsciously looked down at her lips but raised his eyes towards hers when he noticed. “So, I was thinking… Maybe you’d like to go for a stroll near the Black Lake this afternoon? Our last class is at three and then we have the evening for ourselves.”

Before Anya could give him an answer, Ginny cleared her throat and grinned. “Oh, Marcus, I think Anya’s had enough tongues for the day.”

He looked utterly confused as the four friends burst out laughing. He just grinned, having become accustomed to the friends’ weird sense of humour, and simply gave them an amused look until they calmed down.

***

The welcoming autumn day kept the group of friends outside from the end of their lessons until the sun set behind Hagrid’s hut. Anya and Marcus sat on a bench while sharing their notes on their latest Charms assignment, while Luna peacefully read a book called “ _One Hundred Fascinating Herbs”_ with her head on Ginny’s lap as she chatted the afternoon away with Ari, who at some point took his shoes and socks off and freshened himself with the water from the Lake to his friends’ surprise. From time to time a leaf would fall and stick to Luna’s clothes or hair and Ginny would brush it away and receive a heart-warming smile from her friend in return. The blonde girl spoke up from time to time, telling random facts to their friends, and they’d stop what they were doing to listen to her passionate speech. Kiyomi greeted them from where she was sitting with a group of Hufflepuffs and Ari quickly ran towards her to give her a quick peck on the lips and then went back to his friends.

They agreed it was time to go back to the castle when it became impossible for them to distinguish their black-covered books from the grass they were sitting on. Marcus offered Anya a hand, which she gladly took, and helped her get on her feet. They all walked back, laughing and discussing their plans for the rest of the evening. 

When they had all finally decided they were going to hang out at the Room of Requirements (which was one of their favourite spots, because when they imagined they wanted a place to hang out, it’d turn into a cosy living room full of soft bean bags chairs, cupboards filled with candy, a fridge with an assortment of Butterbeer, pumpkin juice and other beverages and more than enough place for all of them), Anya excused herself and said she had some things to do but would meet them half an hour later at their usual spot. Before any of them could ask any more questions, she quickly turned on her feet and walked towards her Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.

The moment a Slytherin student who was wielding a pair of crutches walked past her, she noticed she was walking at an extremely slow pace. Truth be told, she was actually stalling and involuntarily trying to come up with any excuse that would help her conscience be at ease for not doing what she was headed to do. She knew once she did it, there was no turning back and no second thoughts or her whole plan would crumble to pieces. But, with the thought of the whole Order relying on her and her success, she quickened her pace as she approached the heavy wooden door.

She wasn’t surprised when, after softly knocking a few times, she opened the door to an empty classroom. It was late and there was absolutely no reason Draco Malfoy would be there, but it was worth a shot. She then headed towards the teacher’s lounge, thinking that maybe he fancied a cup of evening tea or some quiet space to review his students’ essays on Animagi. Once she reached the room, she knocked once again and was invited in by a cheerful Professor Flitwick. They engaged in a short conversation about their last lesson and the upcoming Quidditch match between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, but she excused herself and motioned to leave when she realised Draco wasn’t there. Before she exited the place, she asked Flitwick whether he could point her in the direction of her professor’s dormitory.

“Rodríguez, I— You know I can’t do that, I certainly was expecting more from my favourite Head Girl,” he spoke, his cheeks slightly blushing. “I know you two shared classes and all at some point, but I’m sure you can understand how immoral this is—.”

Anya’s eyes opened twice their size as she understood what her professor was implying and cut him off before he could go on. “Oh, no! Professor, I would never— I mean, it’d never cross my mind— I’m fulfilling the Order’s task!”

Flitwick’s cheeks grew even redder as he clutched his heart and exhaled the air he had been holding. “Oh, I—I’m sorry, miss Rodríguez, I thought you—,” he began mumbling, but decided he would do less harm if he just stopped talking as his student was frantically shaking her head. “Yes, of course, let me show you.”

He gave her the directions and they parted ways after an uncomfortable silence.

She reached Draco’s door (which was signalled by a modest silver plaque) and gently knocked three times; but as she did so, she noticed the door was open and pushed it a little further, peeking in before entering the room. She felt the heat of the cracking fire on her skin and froze when she heard someone talking.

“Stop fucking asking me to promise you things, you’ve long lost the right to do so,” she heard Draco’s angry voice. She was about to close the door and wait outside, but the thought of McGonagall’s words was etched in her head and so she just stood there, listening.

She couldn’t hear the faint response and instead, heard her professor’s voice again. “I don’t have the time to deal with this, you or this stupid nonsense you’re babbling on and on about,” he blurted out. “Goodbye, father.”

And with that, the room felt silent. Anya slowly closed the door, waited for a few seconds and then knocked again. She shyly opened it, feeling an ounce of guilt for having spied on what seemed to be quite a private conversation. Draco was alone and looked miserable, his hands supporting his head and the knees on his immaculate black suit covered in ash.

When he saw her, he just raised an eyebrow and a faint smile appeared on his plump lips. “Miss Rodríguez! To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit on this _fine_ evening?” he ironically asked.

Anya had to shove down her throat the witty comment she was about to make, and instead smiled back at him. “I just came here to see whether we could reach a small… _agreement_ ,” she answered. This caught Draco’s attention, who motioned her to sit down on a comfortable leather chair.

“You see,” she continued, “this is my last year at Hogwarts and I have to start thinking about my future. I’ve always wanted to work at the Ministry and I happen to know you have quite good relations with a few influential people, and I was just wondering whether—”

“No,” Draco interrupted her, his chin resting atop of his intertwined fingers.

“But, you didn’t even let me finis—”

“No.”

Anya counted to ten in her head before speaking again. “I don’t want you to get me an internship there, I want to earn it,” she continued, and before he could interrupt her again, she added, “I’m here to offer myself to be your teaching assistant. I can help you prepare the room before the lesson, clean up afterwards, help you think out your lessons or whatever you need me to do. You’ll find I’m quite satisfactory in many fields.”

She face-palmed herself internally at her choice of words. Draco noticed, because he grinned and held back his laughter. “Hm,” he simply stated.

She stayed silent, waiting for him to give him an answer. When he didn’t, she spoke again. “It’d be really helpful if—”

“The answer is still no, Rodríguez, but I really enjoyed you trying,” he cut her off, still grinning.

Anya had never wanted to hex someone so bad in her entire life, and that was saying a lot since she had fought Bellatrix Lestrange just last year. She just exhaled, stood up and nodded before heading towards the door.

Her hand was hovering over the handle as she froze in her spot. “Wait, Rodríguez.”

She turned around, hopefully, and gave him a charming smile. “Yes, Sir?”

He hesitated for a moment before speaking his next words. “I’ll accept your offer, on one condition: you’ll help me correct essays and dry clean my suits.”

Anya fought against her eyes that were so willing to roll in her sockets. “Anything you need, Sir.”

She closed the door behind her and sighed. Her plan was in motion: she’d have some alone time with her professor and would be able to learn his secrets, once and for all.


	7. The Tryouts

“Could you please remind me once again WHY I’m getting up at seven in the morning on a Saturday?” Anya groaned, while searching for her favourite pair of fuzzy socks.  
“Because Quidditch is fun!” Ari replied, a smile on his face. “And also because we can get the best food before everyone else wakes up.”  
That statement seemed to cheer Anya up a little. Her curly brown hair fell untamed up to her shoulders, a few strands tickling her cheeks as she knelt in front of her trunk. Her hazel eyes were merely open behind her squared glasses and her long fingers were trying to fish a burgundy sweater that laid somewhere beneath her books. They were talking in a hushed voice, not wanting to wake up Anya and Luna’s other two roommates.   
“Come on, hurry!” Ari prodded her shoulder, seeing as Anya was being particularly slow that morning.   
“How do you manage to go up our stairs, anyway? Guys aren’t supposed to be able to do it,” Luna asked, absentmindedly holding Sofía while she waited for her friend.  
“Yeah, well…” Ari responded. “Stairs are a bit transphobic at the moment, but we’ll get there eventually.”  
Anya got up and motioned her friends to get going. Luna gently placed Sofía on top of her bed and started walking towards the door. But, just seconds before Ari could set foot on the stairs, she whispered “Glisseo” and the marble stairs with their blue carpet suddenly morphed into a slide; Ari couldn’t stop on time and he slid down, letting out a quick expression of surprise as he landed on the floor. He looked up at her friends, who were supressing their giggles.  
“And what in the bloody world was that for?” he asked as he patted his black pants to remove any dirt.  
“Well, I thought you deserved the full experience,” Luna simply stated.  
Anya looked at her in disbelief and then, back at Ari. “I think we finally corrupted her.”

***

A shiver ran through the three friends’ bodies as they sat down on the cold, wooden benches of the Quidditch pitch. There were no more than six other people, all of them cheering for their own friends who were trying out to be in Gryffindor’s Quidditch team. Anya conjured a jet of bluebell flames and placed it in a glass they stole from the Great Hall, in her best attempt to keep them warm. Luckily, they had fetched three cups of hot coffee with them and they brought some relief to their hands as they wrapped their fingers around them.  
Anya looked down and squinted her eyes, trying to recognize any face in the crowd of red and gold robes. Her eye suddenly caught Marcus’s, who waved and winked at her as he noticed her up on the stands. She smiled and returned the wave, as a good luck charm; he didn’t seem to need it, though, as he puffed his chest and leant elegantly on his Firebolt. Out of the four people in his group (who Anya guessed where the other players trying out to be the new Gryffindor seekers), he was the most composed. He didn’t seem too nervous as he beamed at two Slytherin fifth years, who giggled and prodded each other as soon as he turned his back on them.   
“EVERYONE SHUT UP AND GATHER AROUND.”  
The three friends laughed as they saw all the people on the field stiffen up and shut up at once at the sight of the Gryffindor captain approaching them. Ginny’s fiery red hair was easily recognisable as she stepped into the circle of players.  
“Look, that one looks like he is about to shit his pants,” Ari said while pointing at a rather scared fourth year.   
“Yeah, I really wouldn’t want to be on their shoes. Ginny’s going to kick their asses,” Anya replied with a smirk on her face.  
“One galleon says at least three of them will run off before the tryouts are over,” Ari proposed.  
“I say at least four.”  
“Deal.”  
They sealed the deal as Luna shook her head with a smile. “Two galleons say Ginny will blame Harry for not being strict enough with them on his sixth year,” she added.   
Ever since they had returned to Hogwarts, Ginny seemed to be blaming Harry for a lot of things. When Anya finally dared to ask her if everything was okay between the two, she just answered that he was slow as a tortoise and that he hadn’t asked her to go out on a formal date. Apparently, he didn’t even talk to her much, as he had gone away on a long holiday with Ron and Hermione right after the Battle and hadn’t returned yet. She dismissed it, saying she really didn’t care, but her three friends (specially Luna) knew that wasn’t true at all.   
“Yeah, we know that’s going to happen Lu,” Ari replied with a snort.   
Just then, the fourteen people down in the pitch rose up in the air and the tryouts began. The friends sat back, warming their hands with their coffees and passing around a plate of waffles they had managed to bring with them, watching as the show unravelled before their eyes.   
Just as the new Beaters were trying to deflect the Bludgers being directed at them, Anya suddenly noticed a black figure walking through the grass and heading towards the Greenhouses. She wouldn’t have thought much of it, except that it was a Saturday and no one went to the Greenhouses on weekends unless it was Professor Sprout, Professor Slughorn trying to steal some leaves off a plant or couples who wanted to get a private spot. But Anya kept looking, trying to make out who it was, since it was just one person and certainly didn’t look like Professors Sprout or Slughorn. Just when the figure got away from the shadows that casted the nearby trees, Anya recognised the unmistakeable blonde hair that she had been seeing for the past month and a half in her Defence Against the Dark Arts classes. The tall man picked up his pace, glancing behind his back as he reached the entrance of Greenhouse number four and disappeared out of her sight as the trees covered her line of vision.   
“Hey, are you okay?” Luna asked, getting her out of her trance.  
She turned around and noticed both of her friends confusedly staring at her; she hadn’t noticed she had stood up to get a better view.   
“Oh, yeah, I thought I saw Sofía being chased by Fang, that’s all,” she quickly excused herself, as she sat back down.  
Ari turned around with a shrug of his shoulders and focused back on Ginny, who was now showering the Guardians with Quaffles as they desperately tried to prevent her from scoring; but Luna kept looking at her, as if trying to ask her with her eyes what had really happened. Anya smiled at her, trying to look clueless, and focused back on the game. 

***

“Give it up for our new Seeker!” Ginny exclaimed, as she raised her glass to propose a toast.   
The five friends cheered as they clinked their glasses over at the Gryffindor table. After a rather thorough and exhausting morning, Marcus had secured his new position. He really stood out: the other Seekers couldn’t keep up with him, as he caught the snitch again and again. Everyone else seemed to notice it too, for when the tryouts were over, a large group of girls and a few boys gathered around him, praising him on his outstanding performance. A few of them even tried flirting with him, but he politely dismissed them as his friends reached him to congratulate him as well. The girls and guys looked disappointed, but he still managed to give one of the ladies (a gorgeous, olive skinned Slytherin) a charming smile and a kiss on the knuckles before they all walked towards the castle. He then noticed Anya was still shivering, even after they’d spent the last two hours trying to warm themselves with the fire she had conjured, and immediately offered her his quidditch jumper, with his surname embroidered on the back, which she gladly accepted.   
Once their stomachs looked bloated and had stopped growling, they got up and headed out, wanting to relax at their favourite spot. They were laughing and talking and Marcus had his arm wrapped around Anya’s shoulders; they were always flirting with each other, but they’d never actually gone out on a date. Just before they could begin climbing up the stairs, a cold and deep voice startled them.  
“Miss Rodríguez,” they heard the voice say.  
Anya turned around and saw Draco Malfoy looking at her, his eyes travelling for a second to her jumper and then back at her eyes. “I need your help right now. If you were kind enough to follow me…”  
And he started walking in the opposite direction, without waiting for her response. Her friends looked puzzled and she just muttered she’d explain later and ran behind her professor, trying to keep up with him.  
He didn’t turn around once as he guided her through the main entrance and towards the Forbidden Forest. Anya’s heart raced as she wondered whether this was all a set up and he had found out her true intentions and now wanted to punish her for it. But her worries washed away as she saw a tall figure standing beside one of the trees, beaming at them.   
“Yeh’re a’right there, Anya?” Hagrid smiled at her, while bringing her into a hug.   
She affectionately hugged and smiled at him as she took a step back to be able to look at him in the eyes. “I’m alright, Hagrid, thanks! What are you doing here?”  
“Well, Professor Malfoy ‘nd I thought it’d be nice to join o’r classes nex’ week,” Hagrid replied, nodding with a respectful smile at Draco.   
He had just returned from the depths of the Forest, holding a leash. When he approached them, Anya saw he was guiding a small Thestral towards them. Its stick-like legs still trembled when it walked, and she guessed he was probably two years old. She got closer to it, grabbed a piece of raw meat from Hagrid’s satchel and fed him while stroking its white, ghostly mane.   
“You can see him?” Draco asked, while leaning on one of the nearby trees.  
“Yeah, I can. You know, last year when we—”  
“Oh, yeah, I remember now,” Draco interrupted her, finding his black polished shoes the most interesting thing in the world.   
There was an awkward silence, as Hagrid alternated his stare between the two, utterly confused at the exchange they’d just held. At least Anya could be certain of one thing: Draco Malfoy remembered what had happened between the two during the Battle. Good.   
“So, why did you bring me here? What can I help with?” Anya inquired, breaking the silence.  
“Oh, well, I—I guess I just wanted your opinion,” Draco stated, looking away. “Do you think it could be an interesting class? Helpful? Not that I care much about what you all think, it’s my class and I’ll teach it as I see fit.”  
He had quickly added that last bit, noticing he had looked anxious when asking for her opinion. Anya knew that was an attempt to maintain his cold, indifferent façade, but she also thought she could sense actual worry and anxiousness behind that mask he had built for himself. She was under the impression that he had applied for the job for his own benefit somehow, but now that she saw that ephemeral trace of genuine anxiousness, she started having second thoughts. She dismissed the idea after a few seconds of internally debating; Draco Malfoy didn’t care about anyone but himself. He just couldn’t.   
“Yes, I actually think it’s a great idea. Even more so now, that most of us will be able to actually see them,” she replied, only to let that last bit fade out as her throat tightened at the thought of last year’s events.   
“Splendid. Well, we’ll see each other tomorrow,” he spat, waving Hagrid goodbye; he had caught sight of Grawp, who was playing around with an old bicycle, and cast him a disgusted glance before heading towards the castle. Anya briefly hugged Hagrid, promised to visit him soon and ran towards her professor, catching up.  
“What is it, Rodríguez?” Draco asked, when he saw her hesitantly open her mouth.  
“Well, I’ve been meaning to ask you something, Sir,” she added, as he raised his eyebrow inquisitively. “I think I saw you today, heading towards the Greenhouses… Were you looking for something in particular? Maybe I can help you by asking Professor Sprout.”  
He stopped in his tracks and Anya almost tripped over a tiny rock when she suddenly came to a halt as well; but as swiftly as he had frozen in his spot, he resumed his walk.   
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Rodríguez, you must have mistaken me for someone else,” he answered after clearing his throat, not even looking at her.  
“I’m almost certain it was y—”  
“I was all day long in my room and even if it was me, Rodríguez, it’s none of your business. Please limit yourself to asking questions when I allow you to do so,” he cut her off and with that, headed towards the stairs that led to the professors’ chambers.   
He had almost managed to convince her she had been wrong, but as she looked at him while he was walking away, she noticed the soles of his neat shoes were covered in red dust and were leaving a faint trail behind him; it was the exact same brick dust that covered the path to the Greenhouses.


	8. St. Mungo's

Ari awoke with a startle as his wand started buzzing underneath his pillow at the time he had enchanted it to wake him up; it was now 7AM on a Sunday morning and he rubbed his eyes after he had silenced it and laid there for a few more minutes. The clear water outside his bedroom window sparkled under the rising sun as he got up and started dressing himself. He made sure he was as silent as possible: if accidentally waking up a teenager at dawn on a Sunday was bad, waking up a teenage Slytherin was definitely worse. He went down into his empty common room and then, out into the freezing corridor.

“ _No wonder how they paint us Slytherins as grumpy, this must be the fucking coldest part of the castle,”_ Ari thought to himself. Although he knew the day was pretty cold and felt the autumn breeze caressing his cheeks, he wasn’t cold at all. He didn’t feel cold much anymore.

He was looking down at his clock to check the time, when his body suddenly crashed against something else. He looked up and, to his surprise, Anya’s tired eyes stared back at him.

“What are you doing here?” they both asked at the same time.

Ari smiled and asked again. “Why are you up so early? It’s a Sunday.”

“Well, I could ask you the same question.”

“I asked first.”

Anya sighed and lazily yawned, as she tried to come up with an excuse. “I… I’m on Head Girl duty,” she answered and looked away, knowing her friend could always tell when she was lying.

Just as Ari was going to respond, an equally yawning Marcus came out from one of the doors to their left, his hair more ruffled than it usually was. He suddenly froze when he saw the Slytherin boy and looked alarmingly at the girl, who was now blushing a deep shade of scarlet.

“Oh,” Ari muttered. “So I assume you two were testing how soundproof the broom closets are? Is that what your _Head Girl duties_ were?”

He had to hold back his grin as he saw her friend’s eyes widen in horror. “No, Ari what the fuck—We were just—.”

“Nope, too much information, don’t worry, I get it,” he said as he began to walk away.

He laughed as he heard Anya trying to explain herself from behind him, but turned the corner and stopped hearing her. He was actually relieved he could get away without having to come up with an excuse as to why he was awake so early in the morning, seeing as he had caught her friend in such a suspicious situation. Of course, he didn’t know what Anya had said was partially true: the previous night she had been wandering the halls on Head Girl duty, but she had a lot on her mind after what had happened with Draco that evening. Marcus noticed, as he always did, and so they both headed towards the Gryffindor common room and stayed up until three in the morning talking and he managed to make her feel at ease for a few hours. They had fallen asleep on the couch, luckily waking up before anyone could see them and he offered to accompany her back to her room.

He finally reached the Headmistress’s office, muttered the password and went up the stairs. He entered the room after softly knocking.

“Good morning, Professor,” he politely greeted McGonagall.

“Good morning, Thomas. Just in time,” she answered while looking at her clock. She grabbed a tiny container and handed it over to him: it held a silvery coloured powder that felt cold to the touch as Ari grabbed a handful of it. With a flick of her wand, a warm fire started burning in her ornate fireplace.

Ari hesitated before throwing the powder in the burning flames. “No news of Fawkes yet, huh?” he asked, stalling due to his nervousness.

“No, we haven’t seen him since Dumbledore died,” she replied. “I don’t think we’ll ever see him again, though, phoenixes are extremely loyal creatures and they serve only one master in their lifetimes when tamed. Now, Thomas, quit stalling and get going.”

Ari smiled at her and watched as the flames turned a bright shade of green, similar to the one he wore on his robes every day. He stepped into the fireplace and clearly stated “ _St. Mungo’s Hospital”._

He felt his feet detach from the ground as an invisible force pulled him up and away from Hogwarts. He closed his eyes in an attempt to keep the soot away from them, but he could see quick flashes of light behind his eyelids as he passed through different chimneys in his way to his final destination. Roughly twenty seconds after, he felt a cold surface beneath his feet and the force of the sudden stop almost made him fall to the ground.

“Hey there, lad, I got you,” he heard a familiar voice say, as a pair of arms grabbed him from his shoulders.

When he rubbed his eyes and finally opened them, he smiled at the familiar sight of a beaming Dean Thomas. The older Gryffindor let go of his brother’s shoulders only to be brought back into an embrace by the youngest Thomas.

When they broke the hug, Ari followed him through the labyrinth of corridors that his brother had now almost memorised after three months of working at the hospital; after having to tend to Seamus’, his best friend’s, injuries year after year during their time at Hogwarts, he had developed quite the liking for healing and had therefore decided to become a Healer. Although he couldn’t begin his work just yet, for he still had to take his NEWTs, he was allowed to help other Healers with their patients and assist with minor injuries.

Dean had changed a lot in the previous year; Ari didn’t know exactly what he had gone through when he was on the run, but he suspected whatever happened forged him into the man standing before him. He had let his hair grow slightly and his black curls now spiralled down to his brow bone. He wore a cleanly shaved beard that enhanced his jawline and a dangly earring on his right ear. Now that Seamus had perfected his Transfiguration skills and managed to produce quite nice tattoos, Dean had taken advantage of it and almost the full surface of his left arm was covered in tattoos. Ari couldn’t help but notice how witches and wizards alike gave him quick and not so concealed looks as they strode past different parts of the gigantic hospital.

They reached the hospital wing they were headed towards, announced themselves to the wizard behind the white desk and sat down waiting for Ari’s turn.

“So… How are things at Hogwarts?” Dean asked, as he lazily laid back on his chair.

“Well, not too bad. It’s my seventh year and I’ve still to meet a single Gryffindor that’s not a whiny bitch like you, though” he replied and quickly moved his arm as Dean playfully tried to punch him.

“Yeah, well, in all my time in Hogwarts I never came across a Slytherin who wasn’t an ironic piece of garbage, but you sure take the first place,” he retorted, as they both laughed.

They kept conversing as they waited for one of the Healers to call Ari’s name. “So… caused any trouble lately?”

Ari had always been the sibling that got into the most trouble at school. Although his cleverness usually helped him escape his professors, his disregard for the rules usually got the best of him, especially with Dolores Umbridge during his fourth year. It was always harmless fun and he usually thought quite ahead of his actions so as to avoid being caught.

“Meh, I’ve had a lot on my plate… but the year has just started,” he replied with a smirk.

They heard a hoarse voice call Ari’s name and they both got up from their seats. Ari smiled at Dean and motioned him to sit back down.

“Don’t worry Dean, you don’t have to go in there with me. I’ll be back in around fifteen minutes,” he reassured his brother.

He followed the Healer down the corridor and into a neat room that only contained a wooden desk and a hospital bed. The elder wizard smiled at him and they both sat down.

“So, Mr. Thomas, I assume you’re aware of how this process works?”

Ari nodded and the wizard repeated the steps for protocol. “Well, you’ll have to come once a month here and we will execute the spell each time. You may be sore the first day, but it should wash out after twenty-four hours. Just a warning, you may not notice immediate changes in your physical appearance, such as facial hair, but these type of spells take time. This is quite a recent discovery, even Muggles hadn’t developed until recently a medical treatment for transgender people, so any questions you may have you shall ask.”

Ari nodded again, his throat being so dry he couldn’t speak. His heart was beating fast and he had to remove his sweater as he felt his body getting hotter.

“Shall we?” the Healer asked.

He sat on the bed in front of him as he took out his wand. He pointed at his chest, muttered the incantation and a golden strip shot out from the tip and into his body. He suddenly felt a rush of cold travel through his body and it relieved the heat inside him.

“All done now, mate,” the wizard said, as he put his wand back in his pocket. “You are free to go.”

Ari thanked him and left the room. The whole process took him about three minutes and so, after glancing at the waiting room and making sure his brother was distracted enough not to notice him, he started walking the other way.

Once he reached the fourth floor, he went up to the desk.

“Hello, good morning,” he politely greeted. “I have an appointment with Isadora Goldstein.”

The witch looked up at him and then at her book. “Name of the patient?”

“Ari Thomas.”

“Is he here with you or do we have to send someone to get him?”

“Oh… Well, it’s me, I’m the patient,” Ari answered, feeling a slight blush covering his cheeks.

“I—I’m sorry, darling, I thought—You’re so young… I’m really sorry, I’ll go let her know you’re here,” she stammered, nervously, as she got up. He cast him one last sad look and left the room.

Ari sat down on one of the white chairs and looked around. He was welcomed by the sight of a wizard who was on a wheelchair and blankly stared ahead, not being able to move a single part of his body, another witch whose skin was almost entirely covered by red stains and, furthest to the door, a wizard whose body couldn’t stop involuntarily shaking. He was even more nervous than he had been for his other appointment and he had to look down and tightly clench his fist to avoid his tears to run freely down his cheeks.

“Mr. Thomas, Mrs. Goldstein will see you now,” the same witch he had talked to announced, avoiding his gaze.

He got up, thanked her and walked towards the last door on the corridor. He took a few seconds to breathe in and out and then, knocked hesitantly on the door. As he was told to come in, he looked up at the silvery blue plaque that was hanging from the door:

_Isadora Goldstein, Healer_

_Specialized in Incurable Diseases_

***

After his second appointment, Ari had to take a few minutes in the restroom to wipe his tears and wash his face; he couldn’t let Dean see him like that, or he would start asking questions he wouldn’t know how to answer. He wasn’t going to tell his family about his disease until he could find a cure. He had to find a cure.

They had breakfast together in the hospital’s cafeteria and then, said their goodbyes before Ari returned to Hogwarts. Dean promised his brother he would accompany him in all of his future sessions and Ari blurted out a joke so as not to start crying again.

Once Ari landed in front of McGonagall’s hearth, she quickly cast a spell and his clothes were ridden of the ash from his journey back. He thanked her and almost ran out of her office.

He didn’t want to meet up with his friends, for he had a lot on his mind and he knew they would notice. So he decided to go straight to his common room and lay low for the day.

It seemed as if nothing would go as he planned, for he ran into Anya for the second time that day.

“Hey, there you are! Where have you been?” she asked him after giving him a hug.

“I went to St. Mungo’s to start my treatment… I’m a little tired after the spell, so I’m just going to rest for the remaining of the day. Please let Lu and Ginny know and send them my love,” he quickly added, deciding it would be easier to tell her half of the truth.

“That’s great, Ari! Get some rest and you’ll tell us all about it tomorrow,” she added, but seemed to lose her focus as she suddenly fixed her gaze on the parchment she was holding.

Taking advantage of her moment of distraction, Ari quickly slipped away from her sight and headed towards the Slytherin dormitories.

But Anya didn’t move, as she was still staring at the piece of parchment in front of her eyes. McGonagall had asked her and Marcus to keep an eye out on one of the corridors in the fifth floor, for it was undergoing some reparations after it got completely destroyed during the Battle; she suspected it would then be the perfect spot for couples to get some alone time as if it was to remain deserted, so she wanted to make sure nobody got in there.

Anya had been planning to spend the afternoon in the library, but McGonagall’s request suddenly changed her plans. Not wanting to miss the peaceful afternoon, she borrowed the Marauder’s Map from Ginny (who got it from Harry right before he left, claiming she could need it more than he did) and decided to hold onto it and check it every now and then, so as to be able to still fulfil her Head Girl duties while studying in the library. But to her surprise, she saw a figure moving rapidly across the Hogwarts grounds under the label “Draco Malfoy”; he seemed to be in a rush.

Thinking on her feet, Anya ran towards the doors and exited the castle. She checked the map once more and started moving in the direction of his professor.


	9. The Marauder's Map

Anya’s stomach roared as she was silently walking in the direction the map pointed her in. By the lack of students on the school grounds and the sun shining right on top of her head, she knew everyone was probably already having lunch.

“ _This better be worth it,”_ she thought as she picked up her pace.

She was joined by her black cat, who started trotting beside her. That brought a sense of comfort to the young Ravenclaw, for she didn’t know what to expect from her former Death Eather professor; she couldn’t be quite sure that he _wasn’t_ one anymore.

Her mind couldn’t help but start wandering and reminiscing last year’s events. She had a really good reason not to trust Draco Malfoy; she’d seen first-hand his unquenchable thirst for power and what he had been willing to do to save himself once things didn’t turn out the way he had wanted them to. She had heard from Harry’s mouth about their encounter in the Room of Requirements and how he had almost succeeded in murdering him ( _“although it wasn’t actually him who cast the spell and he did lose one of his best friends in that situation”,_ a voice said inside Anya’s head) and she had also witnessed how him and his cowardly family had run off once it was all over and all there was left was relief and sorrow scattered among the rubble that covered the castle’s floors.

But something had never made enough sense to her, there was something that she couldn’t stop thinking about: this one moment where her unpredictable professor-to-be did something she would have never expected him to do. It was in that moment that she saw a breach of hope for him, that she thought he was actually a decent man with an extremely hostile upbringing. As she was sitting alongside some students and members of the Order whose injuries were being tended to, she was astonished at the sight of Draco Malfoy sneaking past fallen tables and remaining unseen as he made his way towards the place where they were placing all the dead bodies from around the castle. Since everyone was either healing or being healed, no one really noticed as he bent down and closed his cousin’s eyes, which had been open and still frozen on her hindmost gaze. Tonks and Lupin had been found holding hands, so whoever carried them to the Great Hall made sure to keep them that way. Draco looked down at their hands for a few seconds, stood up and slithered his way back to his parents, who had just appeared at the entrance, presumably looking for him. Anya could never make sense of that moment, seeing as he hadn’t shown any other signs of having actually changing ever since.

Anya was so deep in thought that she almost tripped when she was forced to come to a sudden stop when she saw Draco was standing still, a few metres away from her. She hid behind a nearby tree and felt her heart pounding rapidly in her chest, as she stood, expectant to see what he was up to. She could hear his breathing from her hiding spot, as if he was trying to calm himself down by inhaling and exhaling; she guessed whatever he had to do, it was probably important or he wouldn’t look so nervous. She noticed they were close to the Greenhouses once again; there was no one near that general area, as everyone was either having lunch or preparing for their afternoon lessons. This was one of Anya’s favourite parts of the grounds, for nobody ever came here since it was off the path that led to their Herbology lessons and it was at the verge of the Forbidden Forest. There was a particular tree that had a deformed trunk, so she knew she could sit there and her back would fit perfectly against it, making it an excellent reading spot. The gentle sun caressed the lily flowers that surrounded them and a few bowtruckles were disguising themselves among the low branches.

The contemplation of her surroundings was suddenly interrupted as she heard the faint noise of liquid being thrusted against the walls of a small recipient. From her hiding spot, Anya could see Draco’s elbow and the back of his arm moving in a circular motion, mixing up the liquid she presumed he was holding. In hopes of getting a better view at whatever it was he had on his hands, she leaped forward a few centimetres to try and catch a glimpse of the mysterious liquid; unluckily for her, she accidentally stepped on a branch that broke under her weight and she had to quickly hide behind a tree. As if sensing her owner was about to get in heaps of trouble, Sofía, who had been silently standing right next to her, lazily came out from behind the tree, stepping on a few more branches along the way. Anya dared take a peek and saw Draco put away his wand, which he had taken out as a reflex the minute he heard a sound. Her black cat neared him, he knelt and gently stroked Sofía behind her ears. She purred and got closer to his hand.

“ _Traitor,”_ Anya thought to herself.

Her heart leaped as she turned around immediately after she heard steps approaching her; she knew that she would have a rough time explaining herself if she was to be discovered in such a compromising situation. She relaxed when she saw it was a Slytherin couple who walked past her without giving her a second look.

But to her surprise, as she turned back around, she noticed her professor was no longer where she had last seen him standing. She briskly pulled out her map, muttered “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good” and scanned the parchment as the Hogwarts grounds began drawing themselves before her eyes. She spotted Draco’s name inside Greenhouse 4 and she was about to head in that direction when the most unusual thing happened: one moment his name was there, pacing around the Greenhouse, and the next, it was gone.

***

“Hey, Fred? Can I talk to you for a second?” Anya asked, as she ran towards the Gryffindor ghost who was suspiciously hiding behind a column near the Great Hall.

Fred jumped when he heard his name, but gave her a smile as he saw it was Anya and not McGonagall.

“Of course, darling, just wait a second…” he responded, but stopped in the middle of the sentence when he saw the Bloody Baron hovering towards the Great Hall.

He stiffened up and a mischievous grin formed on his face. It was then that Anya noticed that Peeves was too holding his position and staring at the Slytherin ghost with the same look on his face. In all her years at Hogwarts, Anya had never seen the poltergeist so silent; she knew nothing good could possibly come out of that alliance and slowly took a few steps back, to get out of the fire line.

As soon as the Bloody Baron was on the verge of getting in, Fred signalled Peeves, who opened a strange can he was holding and a sudden burst of freezing air came from inside. The current of air quickly reached the ghost and before he could notice what was happening, he was frozen on his spot. Where just seconds before there was a hovering ghost, now there was a statue that stood in the middle of the entryway.

Before he could figure out how to get himself out of that situation, Peeves and Fred started escaping the crime scene, after the Weasley motioned Anya to follow them. Laughing as she ran after them, they didn’t stop until they were completely sure nobody had followed them and then, laughed until there were tears coming out of their eyes.

“Teeny weeny Head Girl Anny is not going to snitch to McGonny?” Peeves asked once they had calmed down.

“Nah, don’t worry mate, you can trust her,” Fred replied, winking at her. “Good job, Peevsie, we’ve really outdone ourselves this time.”

Peeves bowed down dramatically and then, smirking at Anya, left them alone.

“So… What can I do for you today, my lovely little raven?” Fred asked, turning to her.

“Oh, right,” Anya replied, almost having forgotten what she was there for. “I just had some questions about the Marauder’s Map.”

Fred’s face lit up at the mention of his once favourite magical object. “Oh, how I miss it… What mischief are you trying to accomplish?”

“Oh, no, I’m afraid I will disappoint you with the use I’m giving to your precious little pranking object, but I’m actually using it for my Head Girl duties,” she answered with half the truth. “I was just wondering… is there a way someone can just _disappear_ from the map?”

“Hm.” Fred took a moment to think before answering. “No, I don’t think so. Unless the person dies or leaves the castle. Why are you asking? Are you planning on disappearing somewhere?”

Fred was grinning and one of his eyebrows was lifted in suspicion, but before Anya could answer, he opened his eyes in realisation. “Oh! Are you trying to sneak out with our dearest Marcus Bagman?”

“No! Fuck no. Why does everyone think that?” Anya replied, going slightly pink on her cheeks. “No, it’s not that. I was just wondering because I thought I saw someone’s name disappear from the map today, but I must’ve been mistaken.”

“Well, if you saw their name near the gates or near any of the passageways, then they probably sneaked out,” he replied.

Anya thought for a second and listed in her mind all the passageways they knew; none of them were even near the Greenhouses, so that couldn’t be it. Unless there was one the Marauders or Fred and George had never found? She thought it highly unlikely.

“Okay, thank you Fred. You’ve really helped me today.”

“Not a problem, _my favourite Head Girl,”_ he replied in a mocking manner. “Just promise me you will never ever _again_ use our beloved map for anything other than misbehaving.”

Anya laughed as she started walking away.

“Oh! And one last thing,” Fred added, and Anya turned around. “‘ _No! Fuck no’_? What was that about? As if you’ve never thought about pinning him against a wall and li—“

He couldn’t finish talking because he had to avoid the Ravenclaw’s shoe as it flew towards his head; it wouldn’t hurt him but it would have tickled him greatly. He laughed one last time and disappeared through the wall.

Once she had retrieved her shoe, she went back down to the Great Hall. She cursed herself mentally as she hugged her own body for not having been cautious enough to bring an extra sweater with her.

As if reading her thoughts, the Gryffindor quidditch team entered the castle after their practice. Ginny and Marcus spotted her right away, waved their teammates goodbye and joined her. Marcus immediately noticed Anya’s shivers and in a chivalrous manner, took off his own quidditch jumper and placed it on top of her shoulders.

Anya smiled gratefully at him and Ginny let out a snort. “Yeah, I don’t think it’s your jumper that’s keeping her warm right now, Bagman.”

She was about to add another comment, but Marcus looked at her with such authority in his eyes that she shut her mouth as she realised what her friend was silently asking her to do. “Yes, I’m… I’m going to find Luna,” she said as she left the two alone.

Marcus looked back at Anya and beamed at her. She smiled back and put her arms through the jumper’s.

“It is now the second time you’ve saved me from a potential hypothermia, Marcus. I probably owe you my life at this point,” Anya said, trying to fill up the loaded silence between the two.

“It’s always my pleasure, love. It looks better on you anyway,” he added, taking a step closer to her.

Anya looked down as her cheeks started blushing, but Marcus gently placed her thumb under her chin and lifted her head up. Her deep, honey eyes met his gaze, which now looked a bright hue of green as they glimmered under the fire that lit the torches. He brushed her cheeks slightly as he placed a loose strand of hair behind her ear and looked down at her lips.

Anya’s heart was racing as if she had just escaped a Hungarian Horntail. She knew what would happen next unless she stopped it, but she wasn’t sure she wanted it to stop. She had thought about this same situation quite a few times before, but she had never made a move before so he didn’t either, not wanting to pressure her. But her heart started thumping even faster when she realised that she _actually_ wanted it to happen this time.

Marcus moved his thumb back to her lips and leant forward as Anya closed her eyes, awaiting for the wet and warm feeling his lips would bring to hers.

But just before their lips crashed, they heard the loud noise of someone clearing their throat and instinctively pulled away from each other.

“Miss Rodríguez, I need your assistance quite urgently.” Both teens turned around and saw Draco Malfoy standing a few metres away from them.

Anya felt Marcus’ fists clench as he looked at their professor, the green in his eyes mimicking a certain Unforgivable Cursed he was most definitely thinking of conjuring at that exact moment. Anya looked at him, pecked him on the cheek and left, casting him a last apologetic look.

Neither said a word until they reached the Defence Against the Dark Arts room. Once they were inside, Anya leant against one of the desks and crossed her arms, waiting to hear what was so important that her professor had to interrupt her right in the middle of something.

“I feel like I interrupted something,” he said. Anya thought he was going to add an “I’m sorry” after that sentence, but he remained silent and looked at her.

She raised an eyebrow, unable to believe her professor. “Yes, you did actually. I’m hoping whatever it is you need from me is a _bloody_ life or death situation.”

“Well, yes. I actually needed to ask you whether you’ve prepared what I requested for our next class.”

Anya was speechless, her mouth agape at Draco’s words. “ _You… brought me here… for something you could’ve asked literally any other time?”_ she asked, furiously pronouncing every word.

“Well, the class is tomorrow, so I don’t think there’s a better tim—”

He didn’t get to finish talking because Anya turned around and started walking towards the door. She turned around last minute. “I’m starting to think you just wanted to mess with me and didn’t actually need anything.”

She left, slamming the door, without giving her flustered professor a chance to retort.


	10. Halloween

It was the morning of the 31st of October and the sound of the fallen leaves that covered the otherwise green grass being crushed by the students’ feet welcomed them as they made their way towards their Herbology or Care of the Magical Creatures classes. The wind was softly blowing and painting a brown and orange image in the air, and the faint sounds of the murmurs leading up to the castle completed the autumnal scenery. Inside the school, the decorations were as sinister as ever: there were pumpkins every few metres, the silver armours scaring students every now and then with eerie voices that came from their hollow insides and torches that led up to the Great Hall, which was a sight to behold. Bats were flying behind the professors’ table, skeletons were dancing near the walls and the ceiling had been bewitched to display a thunderstorm, despite the beautiful blue skies that could be seen through the windows. There were a few students still having breakfast, but their plates were covered with special food for the occasion: waffles in the shape of bats, toasts smeared with a green avocado paste that resembled vomit and red apple juice that looked like blood inside their cups.

Halloween was not only the day in which the best food was served in the Great Hall, but also the day when the best pranks took place; Fred Weasley knew that very well, as he casually flew across the corridors, trying not to raise any suspicions.

Once he made sure no one was around, he went through the wall and into one of the broom cupboards on the fifth floor. There, waiting for him, was his partner in crime, Peeves. Once they saw each other, they grinned broadly, as they were about to set in motion their big prank for the day.

“Are you ready, Freddie?”

“Oi, Eddie,” he answered. “It was way more fun when you called me Fart Weezy back when I was a student.”

Peeves laughed at him. “We’re partners now. Freddie and Eddie. But I guess I could call you Farty if you really miss it,” he said as he stuck his tongue out.

“Nah, it’s alright mate. I’ll leave your bright nicknames for the students,” Fred replied. “Alright, is it there?”

Peeves didn’t have to reply, because as soon as Fred asked, one of the boxes started shifting uncontrollably.

“Wicked,” Fred answered with a grin. “Are you sure it’s a Boggart and not some other sort of creature?”

“Yes, Freddie, I’m sure. But we can take a look just in case,” the poltergeist suggested.

Fred nodded and with that, Peeves leant forward and opened the lid. They waited for a few minutes but Fred didn’t notice any changes. He turned to his side to ask Peeves whether this was some kind of prank, but he saw the poltergeist’s face lose its usual grin and go a shade paler.

“What? What is it Peeves?” Fred asked, starting to get a little worried seeing as his friend had never looked so scared in the entire time he’d known him.

“I—There’s— The Bloody Baron holding an axe!” he answered and tried hiding behind Fred, before noticing it was of no use since he was transparent.

“What are you talking about? There’s no one here!” the redhead answered.

“Yes, you bloody idiot! The Boggart! Please make him change, I can’t stand it anymore.”

Fred was in an extremely confused state. _Why couldn’t he see the Boggart?_ He unsuccessfully tried to move around, in hopes of catching the Boggart’s attention and trying to get it to reveal itself in front of him. But no matter what he did, he couldn’t see anything besides the terrified poltergeist.

Peeves couldn’t take it anymore, and he opened up the door to the closet and left, screaming at the top of his lungs. Fred still couldn’t see the Boggart, but he heard a series of thumps and noises and realised it was gone when he saw a box fall down right next to the door. He went pale as he realised their prank wasn’t going as planned.

“ _Fucking hell,”_ he muttered, before leaving the room in hopes of stopping the creature before it could cause too much damage.

***

“I’m telling you, Gin, there’s no shortcut on this corridor,” Luna insisted, as they turned around a corner for the fourth time.

“Trust me, Lu, there is. We’ll get to our classroom in no time,” she answered, while internally having second thoughts.

Luna didn’t say anything and just smiled at her friend. She couldn’t care less about not getting to class on time, she was just enjoying the lovely sight of her gorgeous, red haired friend trying to hide the fact that she had been wrong and they would never find the shortcut in that corridor. Luna knew from the second they climbed the stairs that they wouldn’t find the secret door Ginny was talking about, because it was on the third floor, not the fifth as she had said. But she didn’t say a word, mainly because she wanted to enjoy every second they could spend together; they never got the chance to be alone, being in a group of four friends, so this was the perfect opportunity for her to just walk alongside her friend and enjoy her company.

After five more minutes, Ginny stopped dead on her tracks. “There is no passageway in this corridor, is there Lu?”

Luna giggled and her eyes shone as she looked at her. “No, there isn’t. The one you’re talking about is on the third floor.”

Ginny looked at her in disbelief. “You’re a Ravenclaw, how did you not notice sooner? It’s your job to be the smart one,” she replied, but then opened her eyes in surprise. “Wait. Did you know all along this wasn’t the right floor?”

Luna softly smiled as she played with her tie. “Yes, of course I did.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“Well, firstly because you’re the most stubborn person I know and you wouldn’t have listened to me anyway,” she stated, and before Ginny could retort, she added, “and secondly, because I like spending time with you.”

Ginny’s mouth closed and she went speechless after Luna’s statement. She tried to think of a sarcastic comment to make, but she couldn’t think of anything; her mind had gone blank and all she could think about was her friend’s pale silvery eyes that shone like the reflection of the moon over the sea at midnight.

Neither of them said anything, but they kept staring at the other’s eyes. Luna took a step forward, but as soon as she did, they heard a loud bang from the other side of the corridor and they both jumped in surprise. They couldn’t really see what had caused the disturbance, but it became quite evident a few seconds later: after a loud series of thuds, a big, wooden wardrobe started forming before Ginny’s eyes, who was the closest to the corner from where the Boggart appeared. The corridor was dimly lit, so Luna, who stood behind her, still couldn’t see a clear image of what was unravelling in front of her horrified friend.

“What is it, Gin? What’s that?” she asked, as she took a step forward with her wand out, prepared to defend her friend.

As soon as she came closer to the redhead, she saw what seemed to be causing her so much distress, but couldn’t quite make out what was so horrifying about a big, old wardrobe.

Ginny took a step closer and as soon as she did, the closet door opened. From its insides, a tall figure came out and fell to the ground. When she raised her head, both friends saw themselves standing face to face with a second Ginny, who looked terrified and as if she had just been caught doing something she shouldn’t have been doing. Luna suddenly realised what was going on, and shouted “ _Riddikulus”_ while pointing her wand at the Ginny that had just come out from the closet. The wardrobe turned into a skateboard and the Boggart-Ginny, who was turned into an infant version of herself, tried to mount it but it kept making her tumble; Luna’s spell had been cast in such an aggressive way that its impact sent the Boggart a few metres away from them and, at the sound of their giggles, it turned around and escaped around the corner.

Once they were safe, Luna looked at Ginny with eyes full of concern. “Hey, Gin? Are you okay? Sh, you’re okay now, it was just a Boggart.”

Ginny couldn’t mutter an explanation, for her tears started streaming down her face as soon as they found themselves out of danger. Her legs couldn’t support her anymore and she fell to the ground, her whimpers quite audible in the deserted corridor. Luna fell to her knees beside her and gently hugged her as her friend buried her head in her chest. Luna was dying to ask her what her fear was, although deep inside she knew exactly what it was, but she just pressed her back to the wall and they stayed there, the blonde girl’s long fingers caressing the redhead’s back as she kept sobbing into her chest.

The Boggart, still roaming feely, kept tumbling down the corridors until it came across the only other two students who weren’t in class: Ari and Ky, who had sneaked out thanks to the Slytherin’s successful plan (which consisted in sweet talking McGonagall into letting him escort Kiyomi to Professor Sprout’s office, claiming the Head of the Hufflepuff house needed to see her student immediately). Ky had to keep her head down the whole time, her cheeks a bright shade of scarlet and her heart beating fast as she realised what her boyfriend was trying to do; she was not one to usually sneak out, but it felt good to do it for once. He had led her towards the dungeons, careful to avoid the Potions room, knowing everyone was in their classes and they wouldn’t be bothered down there. But not five minutes had gone by, that Ari realised it wasn’t the best idea: Ky was shivering, her hands hugging her torso as she tried to pretend she wasn’t cold. Ari didn’t realise, for he hadn’t felt the cold in quite a while; nevertheless, he stood up and headed towards his dormitory to grab a couple of blankets for his girlfriend.

But before he could reach the doors, he saw something crawling in his direction. He took out his wand and silently cast the spell that lit its tip up. As soon as his eyes got used to the sudden light, he stumbled a few steps back, his eyes big and unable to pronounce a single word: what he saw crawling in his direction was _himself,_ but in a really deteriorated state. The thing that looked like him was excessively sweating, its bloodshot eyes looking straight at him; his eyes seemed to have lost their typical light and he was muttering some words under its breath. When Ari got closer to try to understand what were the phrases coming out from its mouth, he could clearly listen just three words, over and over again: “ _kill me, please”._ He noticed it was shirtless, and when the Boggart lifted its body by perching on his elbows, he noticed the burned skin around the area where its heart should be. Just that moment, Ari’s own heart started aching and he had to sit down and clasp his hands around it as he tried to hold back his tears. With his last breath, he muttered the spell that would scare the Boggart away, but he was hurting so much that he had to tightly close his eyes and he didn’t notice the creature had left him alone.

Leaving a hurting Ari behind, the Boggart kept blindly moving across the castle, looking for some new people to torment. It suddenly sensed the scent of a particularly scared person, and made its way towards the room where Anya and Draco were sitting, a comfortable silence between them as they went through the parchments that contained the third year’s essays on Grindylows. They had been sitting in that exact position for the past thirty minutes, ever since Anya’s last lesson had finished and she reluctantly headed towards her professor’s classroom at his request; to her surprise, they were having quite a comfortable evening. Their heads shot up when they heard the door open with a bang, and a second later they were standing with their wands at the ready. Draco put his long, index fingers to his lips, motioning his student to keep silent. He took a few steps towards the door, but just then, they felt a sudden movement in their direction and Draco involuntarily stood in front of Anya, keeping her from the intruder’s view.

Anya didn’t have much time to think about it, for to her surprise, the slim figure of Lucius Malfoy started rising from the ground. His cold eyes were staring directly at his son, one hand on his elegant walking stick and the other clutching his wand tightly. From behind his back, Anya could feel Draco’s shoulders tense up and his breathing agitating with every passing second. The boy was frozen in his spot, not being able to comprehend the situation to its full extent. It was pretty clear for Anya this was a Boggart, but Draco couldn’t think straight at the sight of his father, the man who had terrorised him his whole life and who he thought he wouldn’t see as long as he was safe in Hogwarts.

Anya didn’t know what to do. She was still standing behind her professor, but he wasn’t moving. Lucius suddenly lifted his hand, and Draco automatically flinched, as if he was expecting him to slap his face. Anya did the only thing she could think of, which was placing his hand on his shoulder; he jumped at that, but looked behind him and saw her kind, reassuring eyes.

He snapped out of his trance, frowned at the man standing in front of him and shouted “ _Riddikulus”_ at the Boggart who looked like his father, whose blonde hair styled itself into two low braids; his black robes were gone and instead, replaced by tight, spandex shorts and a red shirt that read “ _Daddy’s Little Boy”_. Draco and Anya both laughed in unison, and the Boggart turned around, prepared to leave, but just then McGonagall appeared, with Fred right behind her and levitating a wooden vault; Draco soundlessly compelled the Boggart and it went into the chest, the snaps magically closing.

After a few seconds of silence, Draco told Anya she was free to go and he was left alone, trying to calm down his heart rate. Anya said goodbye to McGonagall and Fred and left towards the Ravenclaw common room, having much to think about. That left just the Headmistress and the ghost, but before she could leave, Fred stopped her.

“Minnie, can I ask you a question?”

“Yes, Weasley, you can,” McGonagall answered, knowing he wouldn’t stop calling her that name even if she asked.

“Today, the Boggart… I couldn’t see him. Why is that?”

McGonagall paused for a moment before answering. “Well, Weasley, it could be either because you aren’t afraid of anything or because your biggest fears have already come true.”

Fred was about to say that it was probably because he was perfect, but a thought held him back. He remembered that he had faced Boggarts before and he had always been able to see them; not only had he been able to see them, but the Boggarts always reflected the same image. Before casting the spell that would ridicule the creature, he’d always see his twin brother, George, sitting all alone and crying, holding in his hands one of Molly’s knitted Christmas sweaters with the letter “F” on it. He had never made sense of it, but now, a lump forming in his throat, he understood: what he had always feared most was leaving his brother alone. He put the pieces together and understood why he couldn’t see the Boggart anymore, and had to quickly wave McGonagall goodbye so she wouldn’t see the pool of tears forming inside his eyes.


	11. Nightmares and Eenie Weenie Minnie

_A cold hand was grabbing Luna by her throat. She was lifted off the ground, her toes barely brushing against the grey cobblestone that covered the floor of the dimly lit basement. Her grey eyes couldn’t hold back the tears as she felt the air leaving her lungs. Two small hands slapped, scratched and pinched desperately at the silver one that was still clung around her neck, but to no use. Muffled sounds were being emitted from the Ravenclaw’s choking throat but there was nobody around to listen to her. Her back was thrusted into the nearest wall and she could feel the back of her head pounding right where it met the stones that coated the walls. Even through the pain, even through the burning sensation that was gnawing at her insides, she kept her stare fixed on the small man’s dirty brown eyes, silently stating that she wouldn’t go down without a fight; his cowardice was no match to the blonde girl’s resilience. The man’s face was contorted in what should have been a smile, had it been bore by anyone else; he thought himself to be invincible, his silvery hand making up for his lack of courage. Luna felt helpless as she started seeing black dots and her eyes fluttered desperately in an attempt to stay open._

_Just as she thought she was going to pass out, the grip of the hand around her throat suddenly loosened as the small man let out a shriek of pain when a spell hit right in the middle of his back. It was just one moment of pain before the wand holder put down his wand, but it was enough to leave him panting heavily while clutching his heart._

_“Enough, Wormtail,” a cold, hoarse voice said._

_Luna still couldn’t open her eyes as she was recovering from almost fainting, but she noticed the small man let out a low whimper when he heard the authority in the other voice. She thought it sounded familiar, but she wasn’t sure she could trust her senses anymore after the shock she had just gone through._

_“Yes,_ sir,” _he replied, unsuccessfully trying to hide the irony in his voice._

_Luna started breathing normally as she heard the sound of her torturer’s footsteps getting further and further away. With all the strength she could muster, she opened her eyes and thought she saw a flash of white hair going up the stairs. The small man was not too far away from her and, when he realised she was watching him and the other man had already left, he smiled again._

_“Crucio!” he muttered, and all Luna could feel was immense pain and the bone chilling sensation that her agony would last forever._

Luna woke up in the middle of the night, her heart beating as if she had gone back to that horrid dungeon where she was tortured by a man who thought he was stronger than her and enjoyed tormenting her just to feel more powerful. She felt the wet trail of tears going down her cheeks and she let go of the bedsheets she hadn’t noticed she was tightly holding, as if in a way that could help her stay in the Ravenclaw dormitory and not go to the place her nightmares always took her. She sat with her back to her bed’s headboard and hugged her legs as she buried her head in between them, in an attempt to ease her breathing. She rested her cheek on her knees, defeated, as she looked to her right and saw Anya peacefully sleeping, Sofía curled up at her feet. At that homely sight, Luna’s body started shaking uncontrollably as she silently wept; she would give everything she had to be able to have one good night’s sleep and slumber as soundly as her friend. But those times were long gone: she hadn’t been able to sleep more than five hours in a row ever since she had been captured and held hostage at the Malfoy Manor.

She got up and put on her socks and nightgown before going down the stairs towards her common room. She curled up beside the dying fire, its embers still hot enough to bring some comfort to her aching body. She was used to having nightmares at that point, but something about that night made her feel the worse she had ever felt; she could actually remember that exact scene happening while she had been held hostage. She didn’t want to be alone.

Grabbing her wand from her pocket, she conjured her Patronus and, before she could regret it, she spoke to it. After having reciting her message, the hare that had been pacing in front of her went through the walls of the Ravenclaw common room and disappeared.

Not ten minutes had gone by, that Luna heard noises from outside the entrance. She tried making out what was being said, but the walls were too thick. After another ten minutes, the door opened and a frustrated Ginny Weasley entered the room.

“For fuck’s sake, I would’ve got here sooner if it hadn’t been for that fucking eagle knocker and its stupid riddle. No wonder I’m not a Ravenclaw,” she said, still furiously frowning her eyebrows.

Her expression softened at the sight of her friend shyly smiling at her, trying to hide her pain; but the Gryffindor could see right through her and, noticing the dry tears on her cheeks, she walked towards her and let herself down on the couch. 

“I got your message, Lu. Do you want to talk about it?” Ginny asked, anxiousness reflected on her sharp features.

Luna opened her mouth to start explaining what she had relieved in her dream, but realised it was dry and she couldn’t emit a single word. Her eyes started watering again and with just that, she told Ginny everything she needed to know. The redhead slid closer to her and hugged her with both her arms, as the grey-eyed girl collapsed into her chest and let out all the tears she had been holding. The Gryffindor brushed her fingers through her friend’s hair while murmuring comforting words in her ear, as she held back her own tears at the sight of one of the people she loved the most looking so torn apart. She wouldn’t cry in front of her, she had to look composed or else neither of them would stop crying.

The truth was, she hadn’t gone through what Luna did, but she endured the same agony knowing not only her brother and best friend were on the run and she had no news about them, but also the man and woman she loved the most: not knowing whether Harry and Luna were still alive haunted her during the night and she had to leave all her worries in her bedroom as she woke up every day, knowing her role in keeping the Hogwarts students safe along with the other members of Dumbledore’s Army. She couldn’t show weakness during those times and neither could she when it was all over, for she had to keep her mother from crumbling to the ground in devastation after her brother’s death.

Ginny carefully laid her on the couch once she realised the Ravenclaw had fallen asleep and tried to get up to go back to her common room. But before she could leave, she heard her friend’s soft voice calling out her name. “Would you mind… staying here? I don’t want to be alone.”

Ginny’s heart gave a leap as her soft, brown eyes melted into the whirling grey inside Luna’s. She nodded and laid down next to her, trying her best to make her feel comfortable. When Luna closed her eyes again, Ginny grabbed her wand and silently cast a disguising spell around them, along with _Muffliato._ Content with her work, she put down her wand and proceeded to closer her eyes.

Inside their own little bubble, where no one spotted them even when it was morning and the Ravenclaws were going down to have breakfast, Luna slept soundly for the first time in forever, sheltered in between the arms of the girl she loved.

***

“Hey! Where were you? I was going to wake you up for breakfast and realised you had already left our dormitory,” Anya said in a greeting manner to her blonde friend, who was just joining them along a rather messy-haired Ginny.

They both looked at each other and then back at their two friends, who were inquisitively staring. “I—I got up early to tend to some plants Sprout asked me to help her with and then encountered Ginny on my way here.”

Both of them hoped that would ease their two friends; however, Ari and Anya looked at each other with knowing grins, but decided not to say anything so as not to make them uncomfortable.

Breakfast went by peacefully, and as they got up and started walking towards their first classes of the day, Anya waved them goodbye.

“I have some business to attend to with McGonagall, I’ll join you in a few minutes,” she said and started walking away.

She had reached one of the tapestries that would get her to the Headmistress’s office quicker, but was stopped by someone giggling behind her.

“What’s Tiny Anny doing? Going to meet Stanky Marky again?” she heard Peeves’ voice call out.

She sighed before turning around with a smile; if possible, it was best to stay on Peeves’ good side, but he made it _so_ hard with his annoying voice and nicknames.

“Morning, Peeves. I was just headed towards McGonagall’s office,” she answered politely, although she wanted to ask him what his problem was with those ugly names he always called everyone.

“I don’t think she wants to see youuuu…” he answered, holding the last “u” sound for a few seconds.

“And why is that?” she asked, not knowing whether he was being serious.

“Eenie Weenie Minnie’s having tea with blondy… The one that looks like he always has a dungbomb under his nose.”

“ _Draco,”_ she thought. She decided it was best if she hurried her pace and maybe try to listen to what they were talking about.

When she reached the end of the passage behind the tapestry, she walked a few steps and saw Draco Malfoy coming from the corridor to her right. She was confused, for McGonagall’s office was on the left corridor, so he couldn’t have been there. He politely nodded at her and so did she, walking even faster; _who else could be with McGonagall?_

When she got to the gargoyles, she muttered the password and climbed up the stairs. She tried to muffle her black shoes against the cobble on the ground as she tried to listen for any signs of talking inside their office. When she noticed it was completely silent, she knocked and went in.

The first thing she saw was McGonagall, sitting behind her desk, two cups and a plate of biscuits in front of her. But there was no sign of anyone else in the room and she was almost certain there was any other entrance.

“Good morning, Professor. Are you with company? Should I come back later?” she asked, sounding as innocent as she could.

“Oh, no, not at all Rodríguez,” McGonagall answered, a smile on her face. With a flick of her wand, she made both cups and the plate disappear.

Anya hesitated before sitting in front of her, but quickly judged it was probably some other professor or even a Ministry delegate who was blonde and had tea with her. She didn’t insist any further.

“So, Rodríguez,” her professor continued. “I summoned you here because I want you to tell me all the information you’ve got so far.”

Anya nodded and began explaining. “Well, he’s not one to open up much; as far as I can gather, he hasn’t changed much. He still looks down on anyone who isn’t a Pureblood and is as silent and secretive as he’s ever been. Although I _have_ noticed that he seems keen on teaching, although he would never admit it.

“The one other thing I thought important to tell you is that I’ve seen him wander near the Greenhouses quite a lot recently. The first time I didn’t get to follow him, but I did the second time and lost track of him at one point. But he seems drawn to them; I’ve tried asking him whether he needed any plants but he denied having ever been near the place, although I know it to be untrue. I will keep an eye out in case he disappears again, but I shall tell you as soon as I get new information.”

McGonagall was looking at her with her piercing eyes and nodding occasionally. The last bit of information appeared to have struck her interest.

“The Greenhouses, you say?” she asked, as Anya nodded. “Interesting. Have you seen anything out of the ordinary when you were there?”

Anya thought back for a second, to her Herbology lessons. She had tried to see if anything had changed, but she thought it was all the same and nothing new made her believe he’d want anything from any of the Greenhouses. She shook her head.

“Very well, Rodríguez, I shall hope you keep me updated. Is there any other thing you’ve noticed about him?”

Anya had been internally debating on whether she should tell her professor what had happened on Halloween, when they’d encountered the Boggart. How his face had drained itself of any colour, how he had flinched when the figure of his father had raised his hand and how he had snapped out of his trance when he had looked at her.

“No, Professor, I’m afraid that’s it for the moment,” she lied.

She had decided it seemed too personal to be talking about it. Plus, it wouldn’t really help them at all, it didn’t seem relevant enough. She preferred to keep his secret, for that one time.

“He hasn’t said anything about any odd things he may have encountered? Anything out of the ordinary? Have you noticed any changes in his attitude, maybe a new sense of power around him?”

Anya straightened her spine and furrowed her brows. McGonagall looked frantic, her hands pressing down on the wood and her body slightly tilted in her direction. Those were oddly specific questions, and Anya felt the professor knew more than she told.

“No, not at all, Professor. Why, are you expecting something specific to happen?” she inquired.

McGonagall seemed to notice her eagerness was raising suspicions in her student’s mind, because she leant back in her chair and tried to look relaxed, a gentle smile on her lips. “No, don’t worry. I was just wondering, nothing in particular.”

Anya didn’t believe her, but she knew she must’ve had her reasons to be withholding bits of the truth behind her words. It was probably confidential information or had to do with the Order, which she wasn’t allowed to join yet, not until she turned eighteen at least. Even though Voldemort had fallen, the Order still held meetings, with the members that remained after the Battle and the new ones that had just finished their studies; they were always alert in case Death Eaters tried to cause trouble again, or they noticed the increase of violent magic anywhere. The difference was, now they had the Ministry on their side, for most of them worked there, and it was easier to track down the dark wizards that had managed to escape in one piece.

After a few silent minutes, Anya cleared her throat. “Well, if that’s it, Professor, I must get going to my class.”

“Yes, of course Rodríguez. Thank you for joining me today,” she replied, having been lost in her thoughts up to that moment.

Anya waved goodbye and was about to leave, when McGonagall’s words stopped her. “Rodríguez? I must ask you… keep your eyes open. We aren’t expecting anything to happen, but it might. Just… pay special attention to any changes in behaviour you might notice in Mister Malfoy and please, report back anything you see, no matter how irrelevant you think it is.”

Anya had to fight back her urge to ask her what she was expecting the blonde professor to do, but she just nodded and exited the office, her head clouded with questions.


	12. Grey Skies, Green Grass

“For the last time, you simply _can’t_ call someone of Muggle descent a Mudblood to their face! You shouldn’t even _have_ that word in your vocabulary, but seeing as you do, you can’t blurt it out just like that!”

“Why not? It’s the truth!”

Anya sighed and scratched her head in disbelief at Draco’s words.

“Firstly, it might be true _to you_ , because you look down on them; it’s not true for the rest of us, who don’t care whether someone comes from an ancient lineage of witches and wizards or if they’re the first magical being in their entire family. As you might know, the top student in _your_ year came from Muggle parents and now she’s finished her NEWTs in just a few months without having attended a single class,” she replied, trying to stay calm as her professor scoffed. “And secondly, it’s plain rude! Would you call someone who’s disabled a _cripple?_ Actually, please don’t answer.”

“I wasn’t going to. But what’s the problem with being _truthful_? I thought you Ravenclaws valued intelligence, isn’t it _intelligent_ of me to use my terms correctly?”

Anya was on the verge of ripping her own hair out from the desperation she was feeling. She had to inhale and exhale a few times before speaking again. “We also value wisdom, and I wouldn’t call someone ‘wise’ if they didn’t understand that certain words or expressions can’t be used anymore. Look at where caring whether someone is a ‘pureblood’ or not has got us! We had a war over a man who was so determined to follow his own incoherent ideals that he murdered all the people who didn’t fit in his idyllic version of the world.”

Anya had to bite her tongue back when she realised what she had just said, since he had been (or still was, Anya hadn’t decided on that yet) one of his followers and his whole family thought as Voldemort did when it came to “purebloods”; Draco, however, didn’t seem to notice. He was slightly pouting and leant back on his chair, crossing his arms while his eyebrows were furrowed as in deep thinking. He stayed in that same position for a few minutes.

“So…,” he spoke and Anya could see the gears turning inside his head, “not everyone calls Mudbl—sorry, _witches or wizards from Muggle descent_ , ‘Mudblood’? I’ve always heard everyone call them that and nobody complained.”

“No, Sir, most of us don’t use that word. Maybe you’ve heard it your entire life because the kind of people who surround you are the ones using it, but it is actually really hurtful.”

Draco arched an eyebrow and Anya thought he saw the right side of his mouth twitch upwards. “‘ _The kind of people who surround me’?_ Please enlighten me, who would these people be?”

She hesitated before answering, carefully measuring her words. “Well, you know—”

“I actually don’t, my darling Rodríguez, that’s why I’m asking.”

“Well, you’ve always surrounded yourself with people from Pureblood families, who think as your parents do, as Voldemort did,” she said as she ignored the shudder that went through Draco’s body at the mention of that name. “They’re all engulfed by this superiority complex that makes them believe they’re the only worthy among the wizarding community. Their greed knows no boundaries and they don’t care who they have to step on to maintain their status. They’re so mesmerized by the idea of power and acknowledgement that anything that threatens to tarnish their reputation must be cast out and neglected. In an environment like that, it’s easy to get caught up in all the pompous balls and frigid manners and believe that’s all there is to life.”

As soon as she finished talking, she realised she had said more than she had expected to and looked down, fearing the blush in her cheeks would give her away. She pretended she was concentrating on one of the essays they had been grading and didn’t dare look up; neither of them spoke and the only sound they could hear was the ticking of Draco’s wristwatch.

“Fu— _Bloody hell_ ,” Draco corrected himself after a few moments of silence. “You seem to know Purebloods pretty well. How?”

Anya sighed and slowly looked up; her timid gaze met his grey eyes, only that day they didn’t look ice-cold like they always did. They resembled the grey skies after a storm, when all is quiet but the sweet smell of damp grass and drenched streets still remains. Anya would never admit it to herself, but she had always had a little crush on the older Slytherin. It was probably the fact that she knew she couldn’t (or, most importantly, she wouldn’t) have him that led her to never confess it to anyone. She had always found herself staring at him while roaming the castle grounds, his back against a tree, a green apple on his hand and a longing stare that looked ageless. She was also quite an observant person, and she’d always noticed the two icy blonde strands of hair that seemed to embrace his brow bones swinging when the wind caressed his cheeks, the way his long fingers could always be found fiddling with one of his rings when he was bored or nervous, the way his lips would slightly twitch as if to form a smile, but never did. He was the owner of the kind of beauty that’s bound to attract you, like a magnet, unable to pull away; even when the few times his gaze had met hers it showed pure boredom or disgust, she knew there was more to those swirling pools that were the direct entrance to a core so cold, so distant, that one would think he’d melt under the hot summer sun.

Anya cleared her throat when she noticed she had her gaze fixed on her professor and he was waiting for a response.

“Well, I come from a family of purebloods,” she said, startling him. “We were part of one of the oldest lineages back in South America; my mum’s side of the family was, at least. She married my dad and it caused quite the commotion since he didn’t come from a long tradition of purebloods like they did and the only reason my mother wasn’t disowned was due to the fact that all of my father’s siblings had married into important magical families. So I was, in fact, a witness to everything that’s wrong with those _monsters.”_

Draco was about to interrupt her, but noticed she didn’t seem like she was done talking. He decided it would be best to let her have her moment.

“But then, they cast us out,” Anya continued, her voice raspy. “They cast us out because Merlin forgive one of their _precious_ granddaughters doesn’t fit in their idea of what a nice, young woman should be.”

“What did you do?” Draco bluntly asked. He regretted it the moment he did, as he thought to himself he could’ve been nicer about it.

But Anya didn’t seem to have noticed. “I didn’t do anything bad. It was just they _despised_ the idea of me. I had brought boyfriends home, and they had never cared; but the day I tried to introduce them to my _girlfriend_ … that was the final straw. The following day they tried to arrange my early marriage to a boy from one of the ancient families and my parents had to intervene to keep me safe. My grandparents disowned us and somehow managed to turn everyone against us, so we had to leave. That’s when we came here and that’s why I don’t use my mother’s last name anymore.”

Draco, who had stayed silent until that moment, was struggling to understand the situation. “So… You’re gay?”

Anya let out a laugh and looked at him in the eyes. “Bisexual,” she corrected.

“Oh… okay,” he answered, mildly uncomfortable because he didn’t know what to say.

“Yeah… okay,” Anya gave him a slight smile in response.

They sat in silence for a while, going through the parchments laying in front of them as they graded their contents. The sun was leaving soft trails of the last remnants of daylight as the moon pushed its way to the sky; a pair of hazel eyes caught the faint, orange glimmer and looked a vivid shade of green towards the black irises. Draco couldn’t help but notice how they caught the light, as if trying to steal it away from everyone else and keep its glow hidden inside those big, brown eyes.

“So… What’s _your_ sad story, huh? You too got unlucky in the family department?” Anya asked, forcing him to look away so she wouldn’t catch him staring.

Draco let out a low scoff, the corners of his lips slightly pointing upwards. “One could say that, I suppose.”

Anya pretended she was reading through a particularly challenging paragraph, but in reality her mind was racing, trying to come up with an excuse to ask him more questions about himself; she wanted the conversation to steer towards his intentions at Hogwarts, but she was still trying to figure out how to do it. She noticed an elegant, black bracelet he was holding on his left hand. It looked quite thick and had little shiny diamonds spread through its whole surface, which made her think of a starry, night sky. They seemed to be arranged a special way, but Anya couldn’t quite understand the pattern they were forming.

She signalled it with her head. “Is that a family heirloom? It looks expensive,” she asked.

Draco quickly put it in his pocket and stuttered his response. “Yeah, yes it is. Nothing important, though.”

“A gift from your father?” Anya inquired, thinking on her feet.

She saw him stiffen up at her words and the thought of his father. He fixed his eyes on the wooden desk and his nostrils flared angrily. Anya had yet to figure out why every time something related to his father happened he would react in such a visceral manner.

“No, not from my father,” he simply stated.

“Oh, that’s alright. Your mother, then?”

Draco relaxed and his lips curled up in the slightest smile. “Yes, it’s from my mother. She’s always thoughtful when it comes to gifts.”

“And how’s she like? If you don’t mind me asking” Anya asked, changing her approach and taking advantage of the fact that he seemed quite distracted while grading.

“Well, she’s the one that raised me. She always made sure I was entertained and would play with me when I was younger; she even taught me how to fly when she got me my first broomstick,” he answered and Anya noticed he was just talking because he was too focused on the parchments before him to notice how much personal information he was disclosing. “She also loves The Hobgoblins so I grew up watching her perform for me in the dining room and she would even dress up to sing along to the radio. She knows me better than anyone and…”

Draco suddenly realised he had been talking for far too long and cleared his throat, leaving his last sentence unfinished. He looked at his student from the corner of his eye and saw her face was propped against her right hand and she was listening attentively.

When she noticed he wouldn’t keep talking, she inquired again: “So I assume that’s why you don’t have a good relationship with your father?”

“I’m done talking about this subject, Rodríguez.”

Anya bit the inside of her cheek before answering in a low voice. “I just imagined you’d maybe like to talk about what happened with the Boggart…”

“No, Rodríguez, I do not wish to talk about that. In fact, I’d rather you never mention it again.”

Anya sighed in defeat and went back to the parchments she had been reading. Just when she had thought she had managed to somehow get a little closer to her professor, he shut himself once again.

Draco cleared his throat after a few minutes of silent grading. “So… I’m assuming I have to cross out the part where I wrote ‘Excellent work for a Mudblood’ next to Fieldhawk’s ‘Outstanding’?”

“Yes, of course you have to cross that out.”

“Okay, I was just checking,” he answered and Anya heard the furious scribbling of his quill against the parchment. “Thank you.”

“What for?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

“For… telling me the Mudblood thing. I’ll try not to use it with students.”

“Oh,” Anya said, taken aback by his words. “No problem, I guess.”

They went back to their silent reading and for a while, Anya forgot that she was supposed to be taking information out of him and just enjoyed his company. Every now and then she would get the feeling that a pair of eyes were watching her, but she didn’t dare look up.

“I have a question for you,” Draco suddenly blurted out.

Anya raised her head and a few wavy strands of hair partially covered her face before she blew them off of their face. “Yes?”

“Well, assuming you’ve already told someone about what the Boggart turned into…”

“I didn’t,” Anya cut him off. “It looked… too personal.”

“Oh,” Draco answered, his lips opening and closing not knowing what to say. “Well… thank you. I appreciate it.”

Anya nodded her head and gave him a weak smile; to her surprise, he returned it.

As soon as she had looked back down, he spoke again. “Maybe you deserve to know… Well, after all you’ve told me about your family… You see, my father…”

Anya felt a bit sorry for him as she watched him struggle with his own words. She just kept looking at him into his eyes, trying to convey a feeling of reassurance. He breathed in slowly.

“My father has not been in my life like my mother has, you see. We actually…” he began saying, and Anya thought she was finally going to get some answers.

But just as he was about to explain, they heard a faint knock on the door. Draco pulled back in his chair, cleared his throat and adjusted his black tie, that had been loosened a few hours earlier.

“Yes, come in.”

The door opened and Anya saw Astoria Greengrass, a Slytherin who was a year below her, shyly peeking through the opening and coming in the room. The Ravenclaw wanted to close the door in her face so badly, but she just smiled and stayed silent.

“Good evening, Professor. I was just wondering whether you’d care to explain a few things from the assignment you sent us,” she asked, a beautiful smile lighting her face up.

Draco looked at Anya in response. “Thank you for your help, Rodríguez, you’re dismissed for the day.”

Anya wanted to retort, but she knew she would just sound suspicious so she just nodded and started grabbing her things and putting them back into her bag. She headed towards the door, giving the brown-haired Slytherin one last polite smile.

“Good evening, Rodríguez,” she heard Draco say from behind.

She turned around and watched as the girl was already walking towards his desk, her blue eyes fixed on her professor.

“Good evening, Sir.”


	13. Behold My Aching Heart

Hands intertwined behind a curtain of sleek, black hair. Chest rising, back arching. The piece of fabric being ripped off her agitated chest, joining the rest of their clothing at the bedside. Slow, wet kisses along the whole extension of her body, leaving a trail that was yet to be roamed up and down by his eager fingers. Rings pressed onto her throat, branding her under her chin and collarbones. A hand suddenly grabbed the wand that had ended up near one of the chairs in the room, and a hoarse voice muttered _Colloportus_ and _Muffliato_ before dropping it back onto the ground. His hands cupping every bit of loose skin, hers pulling his hair as she dug her nails into his smooth back, leaving crescent moons wherever she touched. The colours of their skins matched perfectly under the dimly lit room, curtains closed and just a little bit of red lightning that came from the sun behind them. His chest felt abnormally hot against hers, their belly buttons at the same height as they kept passionately kissing as if their lips had magnets and couldn’t be separated from each other. The only noises inside the room were their gasps, the soft moans and the sound their own bodies made when they crashed into the other. Time seemed to stop as they were immersed in their own little world, as he adjusted his pace to match her needs and she responded through the roughness of her hands grabbing his shoulders. Her mouth was near his right ear and he could hear every breath she took, every time she swallowed and even the times her teeth gritted as she tried to supress the noises coming out from her mouth. He grabbed her by her jaw and begged her not to hold back and she was more than willing to comply. Her legs shook, her feet tingled and he exhaled his last breath on top of her before they both fell to her mattress and lay there, their chests rising up and down rapidly.

Ari rolled over to his side and put a strand of Ky’s tousled hair behind her ear, delaying his finger on her hot and flustered cheek. Her eyes were glistering even in the dark and she gave him a warm smile while placing her hand on top of his. He could feel himself melting at the sight of his girlfriend just lying there, half her body covered with the bed sheet and blushing when she noticed her boyfriend taking her in.

She covered her face with both her hands as she felt her ears growing hotter and let out a loud laugh; Ari just smiled, pulled her into his chest and started brushing through her long hair. He kissed the top of her head and felt himself drowse.

“Why does the right side of your chest feel so hot?” Ky suddenly asked, slightly pulling away.

Ari quickly remembered he was still shirtless and turned around, frantically looking for his shirt.

“Well, must be because of the exercise we’ve put in today, huh?” he answered, trying to appear casual as he slid the collar of his shirt through his head.

“Ha, ha. Yes, I know. But the right side of your chest felt _way_ hotter than the left side, that’s what I meant. Why are you covering yourself?” she replied, sitting on her knees behind him as she hugged his torso and placed her chin on his shoulder.

Ky started kissing the place where Ari’s neck met his jaw, and he tilted his head the other way to give her more access. But as she kept doing so, knowing it would keep Ari distracted, she slithered her hands inside his shirt and over the right side of his chest.

“Ouch!” she exclaimed as she quickly pulled her hand away and tried to comfort herself. “Why did your skin just burn my hand? That’s not normal, Ari!”.

He got up from the bed and angrily looked down at her. “I told you it was nothing, Ky, why did you do that?”

“Well it certainly _isn’t_ nothing because it shouldn’t have burned my hand as if I had just put it into a fire!”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have touched my chest and that wouldn’t have happened!” he retorted angrily, as he bent down to grab his trousers and started getting dressed.

Ky got up, grabbed him by his wrists and forced him to get up. He just stared angrily, but cooled down when he looked into her eyes. He crouched and placed his forehead against hers.

“I’m sorry, love, I didn’t mean to yell,” he replied in a sweet tone.

“Don’t worry about it. Please tell me what’s going on?” she asked, her thumb brushing against his cheek.

“Nothing’s going on.”

“Come on, Ari, I know you. We’ve been through this. Is it something with your treatment?” she inquired, trying to locate the source of her boyfriend’s discomfort.

Ari scoffed and let out a sarcastic laugh. “Well yeah, it has to do with a treatment.”

“Please, tell me. I can help you.”

“That’s the problem, Kiyomi, there’s nothing you or anyone else can fucking do.”

She was taken aback by the use of her full name, but it just ignited her desire of wanting to know more. He looked distraught so she gently guided him back to her bed and sat next to him, his head buried onto his hands.

She was about to ask him again what was wrong, but she held back when she noticed Ari’s shoulders were shaking. She then heard the sound of his muffled crying over his hands and forced him to look up, only to be met with his sorrow-filled gaze and she couldn’t help but feel as if a part of her was crying with him. She pulled him in and patiently waited until he had stopped crying, whispering comforting words in his ear and kissing the top of his black curls. He wrapped his arms around her waist and his body gave a few more quivers before he stayed silent, his breathing slowly going back to normal. She just kept caressing his back until he was ready to speak again.

He slowly looked up and from that close, Ky could see the heavy bags under his eyes, although he was still the most beautiful boy she had ever laid her eyes upon. She gave him a small, encouraging smile and a long kiss on the lips.

He sat up straight and wiped his tears away. Ky put a reassuring hand on his thigh and he looked down, debating whether he should tell her what was tormenting him. He knew his girlfriend would eventually find out, so he closed his eyes and started talking.

“Well… I guess I should start from the beginning. So, I’ve always known I’m sick,” he blurted out as he saw Ky’s chest rise up in a quick breath. “My parents found out when I was just a baby, but no Healer could tell us what was exactly wrong with me; since I never showed any signs of sickness, we kind of just thought it wasn’t something serious and so we kept going with our lives. But sometime around January I started feeling sick and realised it hadn’t gone away. I didn’t want to tell my parents since they were already so worried when I came out because part of my family didn’t accept me…

“So before the first time I went to St. Mungo’s I did some research and found this Healer, Isadora Goldstein, who specialises in incurable diseases. I made an appointment and visited her when I went to the hospital for my first session of treatment, sneaking away from Dean. I told her all the symptoms I was showing and after some digging, she diagnosed me with something called _Corinigne Disease.”_

He was interrupted by his girlfriend’s quivering voice. “I—I’ve never heard of it before. What is it?”

Ari sighed and kept looking down at his shoes. “ _Cor in igne_ means ‘heart on fire’. It’s pretty self-explanatory, really. My heart’s been heating up all my life at quite a slow pace but for some reason it’s developing faster now. That’s why I’m never cold and that’s why my skin burns around my heart. It is basically a ticking bomb.”

Ky’s sobs were almost inaudible, as she was trying her best not to burst in tears in front of Ari. He hadn’t looked up at her even once, but her right thumb had been drawing circles on his thigh throughout the story. She hesitated before she spoke again, dreading to learn the answer of what she was just about to ask.

“So, is there a cure? What will happen to your heart and body if this disease progresses?”

Ari looked up wearing a sad smile and placed a strand of Ky’s hair behind her ear, making his finger linger near the lobe as he gently brushed it against her skin.

“We don’t know much. Since it’s such a rare disease, there hasn’t been proper investigation that could tell us what to expect. Isadora told me that I’m the first person she knows of who’s had this illness in the last hundred and fifty years; there isn’t a treatment nor a spell or anything of the sort that can help me for now. She’s trying to get the Ministry of Magic to fund her investigation but I don’t think she’ll manage to accomplish that,” he answered and looked down again. “And as for the symptoms, I can only imagine it will get worse. I’ve already had severe chest pains and there’s also this thing where sometimes my skin gets so hot I can’t even touch myself.”

“So what you’re telling me is that you’re basically burning from the inside out?” Ky asked.

Ari was about to make a joke about it, but he noticed his girlfriend’s face looked a beautiful mess, black streaks of tears running down her face. He cupped her face with his large hands and tried smudging them out, failing miserably.

“Oh, no, love, I didn’t mean to ruin your liner. You know what they say, no boy is worth wasting your expensive makeup over,” he added with a sad smile.

She giggled and leant her cheek on his hand. They stayed like that for a few minutes, until Ky sat up so quickly Ari got worried.

“Well, get up then,” she said, motioning him to grab her hand.

Ari raised his eyebrow. “Why? Where are we going?”

“We’re going to find a solution to this. I don’t care if I have to go through every damn book in the library and Madame Pince has to kick me out every night,” she answered, determinedly. “So get your lazy ass up and come with me. I’m not leaving you.”

He got up wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in for a kiss. “I love you, Ky.”

“I love you too,” she paused. “Even if you’re as sick as an old man.”

They both laughed and went down the stairs, Ari’s arm wrapped around her shoulders.


	14. Battle Scars

_A deep cut run through the left side of her face as she felt the blood dripping onto her lips. She quickly wiped it with her shirt and kept running, hexing Death Eaters every now and then. She had to duck right before the wall to her left exploded and sent big pieces of rock flying through the air. She saw a big, hairy werewolf about to bite a younger Slytherin, but sent the petrifying spell his way before he could lay a finger on her. She got up and kept running, trying not to look at the faces of the bodies she saw laying around, afraid she would break down if one of them was one of her friends or parents. She couldn’t afford to be distracted, as she suddenly turned left and went into the Great Hall. The once majestic dining room was now filled with shouting, bodies all around and jets of light flying in all directions. She sheltered herself behind one of the pillars that still remained intact, scanning the room thoroughly as she tried to distinguish the face she was looking for in the midst of all the battling. She could sense the nauseous smell of burnt flesh, the intense scent of iron detaching from the pools of blood all around her mixed with the sweat and tears of all the people who had fought and lost. And the shouting; she thought she would’ve get used to them by then, but the hairs on the back of her neck still stood up every time she heard a scream piercing through the crowded room and more than once she thought they belonged to her father or Ari. Screams of joy coming from the Death Eaters, who clearly flourished by feeding on the desperation and fear from Hogwarts students, professors and families, who were so valiantly fighting; screams of pain every time someone would fall on their back, tripping over a dead body, or a spell would hit them right in the middle of their chest. Every one of Anya’s senses were enhanced due to the adrenaline that run through her veins and spread like wildfire all around her body, and she couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed at everything that was happening around her._

_And then, she spotted Bellatrix Lestrange._

_Her unmistakeable screeching laugh could be heard even by the young Ravenclaw, who was on the opposite side of the Great Hall. Her long and greasy hair floated around her face like a black halo, except for the fact that her contorted features made her look like the most loathsome creature. Her rotten teeth could be seen from afar as they gritted against each other while her jaw was clenched in concentration. Anya’s heart gave a leap when she realised she was fiercely battling against Hermione and Ginny, streaks of red, green and gold drawing thin lines that connected the three of them together._

_Anya knew her friends were excellent witches, but she was afraid for them. She started running, avoiding the hexes thrown her way, until she was standing shoulder on shoulder with Ginny and Hermione._

_She was about to join in their battle when she suddenly spotted an icy blonde mane running towards her, wand in hand and ready to fight. She positioned herself at the ready to deflect any curses he might throw his way._

_And suddenly, the Great Hall vanished in front of her eyes and Anya found herself walking through the castle grounds. She didn’t know how she had got there or why, but she knew there was something important she had to do, and she kept walking forward. She realised she was following a ghostly, silver lion who roared at her and motioned with his head towards the Black Lake. She recognised the lion as a Patronus but couldn’t tell whose. She looked down and noticed she was still wearing her pyjamas and sleeping gown and didn’t have her wand with her. Nonetheless, she kept walking behind the lion, across Hogwarts’ grounds while the moon shone brightly above her head._

_She suddenly noticed a glow coming from the Black Lake’s shore, although the fact that she wasn’t wearing her glasses didn’t help at all in trying to make out what was it that was emitting the light. The closer she got, she started noticing voices around her, but she knew she was alone. They sounded ancient, as if from some kind of prophecy. They were mumbling words in a language she didn’t know, but it resonated in her ears like wind ruffling through leaves. She got close enough to be able to distinguish what was hiding behind that faint glow, but suddenly felt her body tremble._

“Rodríguez! Anya! Wake up! It’s okay, you’re okay.”

Anya suddenly opened her eyes and noticed she was being held by her waist by two strong hands that were seemingly the only thing keeping her on her feet. She frantically looked around, trying to remember where she was.

“Hey, look at me. Calm down,” the same firm voice said.

Once her heart was beating at a normal rate again, she looked into Draco’s grey eyes, which showed some signs of concern as he kept holding her up. She steadied herself and he quickly removed his hands from her body.

Anya looked around and her heart gave another leap when she realised she wasn’t in her dormitory, where she had fallen asleep the previous night. She was still wearing her pyjamas and, somehow, her sleeping gown as well. Since she wasn’t wearing her glasses, it took her a moment to recognise where she was standing; but once her eyes had got used to the darkness that surrounded them, she noticed she was close to the eastern shore of the Black Lake.

As if reading her mind, Draco, whose eyes were still fixed on her, asked her the thing she was also wondering: “What are you doing here this late at night?”

“I—I…” she tried answering, but her voice failed her. “I don’t know.”

She hadn’t noticed her whole body was shaking up to that moment. She didn’t know how she had got there and didn’t want to think about what would’ve happened if Draco hadn’t found her.

“Do you remember anything? What were you doing before ending up here? Did you drink or smoke anything?”

Anya might have been in a state of shock, but it surely didn’t stop her from arching her eyebrow and glaring at him. “I’m sober, _sir_. The last thing I remember was going to bed, dreaming and then you woke me up here.”

Draco’s hand was near her shoulders as they began slowly walking back to the castle just in case she lost her balance again. “What were you dreaming? Maybe it had something to do with your sleepwalking.”

Anya hesitated before answering; she knew she wouldn’t dare tell him what the first half of her dream had been about. Not only because he had been in it, but also because it was not only a dream, but a memory she couldn’t get rid of from the Battle. She was glad that part of her dream had ended because she didn’t want to relieve everything that had happened after that exact moment if she wanted to try and have a good relationship with her professor.

“I dreamt I was walking through the Hogwarts grounds following after a Patronus and then I saw a faint glimmer near the Black Lake and wanted to get closer, but you woke me up,” she answered, resolving she’d omit the part where she had dreamt about him.

“Oh,” he said, stopping on his tracks. “Well, did you see what it was?”

“I couldn’t, in my dream I wasn’t wearing my glasses either,” Anya replied, as an idea suddenly came to her. “Would you mind—?

“Yeah, no problem, I’ll go check that out for you. Stay here,” he cut her off and with that, trotted towards the place where he had found her.

Anya stood there as he watched him until he looked like a blurred figure in the distance. She heard him mutter “ _Lumos”_ and the tip of his wand produced such bright light that she had to shield her eyes before they got used to its intensity. Anya then realised Draco wasn’t wearing his usual black suit, but looked quite different with his choice of attire: white shirt, the top four buttons undone, so she could catch a glimpse of his smooth chest that deflected the light that came from the tip of his wand. He didn’t look as neat as he always did, his shirt not entirely tucked into his grey pants and his hair ruffled as it swayed with the midnight breeze. She saw him kneeling next to the water and moving his wand around, in hopes of catching a glimpse of what she thought she had seen.

He returned to the place where she was standing just a couple of minutes later, shaking his head. “I checked and there’s nothing there, Rodríguez.”

Anya sighed and buried her face in her hands, trying to sort out the thoughts in her head. She was curious as to how she had got there but she was also afraid of her own mind; could it be possible that she had dreamt something so vivid that it _actually_ transported her to the place where she was in her mind? Would she have walked into the Black Lake, hadn’t Draco been there to stop her? Whose Patronus was it that she was following? What did it want with her, why would it take her to that empty place?

“Let me escort you back to your common room,” she heard Draco say.

She looked up at him and nodded once. With that, they started walking towards the school, Anya so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t notice the way Draco’s eyes were scanning her; trying to find any signs of harm she might have suffered, wondering whether her body was trembling because of the wind that made her sleeping gown dance behind her back or because she was scared. She seemed lost in thought and he knew there was more to the story than what she was telling, but he could also tell that she was being truthful when she told him she didn’t know how she had ended up alone and in the dead of night right next to the lake and the Forbidden Forest. He didn’t pressure her into telling him what she was hiding, because he could sense she was already struggling to hold herself together in front of him and he didn’t want to be the reason why she crumbled to the ground in frustration. He wasn’t planning on giving her detention, either, and he was secretly hoping they wouldn’t run into Filch or any other professor because he wouldn’t know how to explain how they were both walking alone, way past curfew, without sounding guilty.

“Are you… okay?” he finally asked, after a few moments of silence.

“I don’t know. I think so,” Anya replied, using her arms to shield her body from the harsh wind. “What were you doing out so late?”

Draco’s heart started beating twice its rate as his mouth went dry and he didn’t know how to answer her question. He couldn’t tell her the real reason why he was out so late, but he was glad he had been there at that exact time, before anything could happen to Anya. He couldn’t know this, but Anya felt the exact same way.

“I was just clearing my head. The cold wind always helps,” he answered.

Anya didn’t look too convinced, since he certainly wasn’t wearing the proper clothing to go for a stroll on such a cold night, but the wave of gratitude she was feeling made her forget all about trying to figure out his plans and she just weakly smiled at him.

Once they entered the castle, Anya headed towards the stairs that would take her to the Ravenclaw dormitories, but she saw Draco was walking the other way.

“Oh, well… Goodnight then,” she muttered.

“Oh, no, wait… I was just headed towards the infirmary, I think you should pay Madame Pomfrey a visit, don’t you?” he questioned.

“I don’t think that’s necessary, I’m quite alright,” Anya lied, knowing that Pomfrey wouldn’t have any type of medicine that would ease the anxiousness in her heart.

“Are you sure?” Draco asked, walking towards her. “I really think it wouldn’t hurt, maybe you stepped on something while sleepwalking or maybe she could give you something so you can sleep and not have any dreams…”

“I promise, Dra—I mean, sir. I just want to go back to my bed and warm myself up before I catch a cold,” she said, and she was grateful the corridors were so dimly lit that he wouldn’t be able to tell she was blushing after almost calling him by his first name.

“Fine, but just… please go to her if you start feeling sick,” he added. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your common room.”

She was surprised but she didn’t complain; she didn’t want to walk the long, dark corridors all by herself in fear she would stumble upon the Patronus again. They started walking, the echoes of their breathing the only sound they could hear.

“You know, you can… You can call me Draco if you want,” he said, looking at his feet.

He looked up and saw Anya’s hazel eyes open in surprise and quickly added: “I mean, if you want to, obviously. You don’t have to, but I figured since we spend so much time together you could call me by my first name when we’re not in class. It’s probably stupid b—”

“Thank you, _Draco_. I will,” she interrupted him with a shy smile. “You can call me Anya if you want, I don’t mind.”

“That’s good to know,” he answered, and they felt silent once again.

Luckily, they didn’t run into anyone else on their way back to the Ravenclaw dormitories. Anya’s heart was still thumping loudly, but she felt safer walking with Draco on her side, as if the fact that there were two of them could somehow prevent anything else to happen to her that night. They took a few turns, a few stairs and found themselves in front of the eagle knocker that guarded the entrance.

They turned to their sides at the same time and faced each other, not knowing what to say. Draco swallowed thickly as he thought of something to tell her, maybe some comforting words or something that could help her sleep at ease. But he was never good at comforting people, because he’d never known what it was like to have someone see you in such a vulnerable state that you’d actually _need_ to be comforted.

Anya, too, was struggling to find the words to say. She wanted to thank him, but how could she possibly phrase it? “ _Thank you for saving me from potentially drowning in the Black Lake”_? Or perhaps, “ _Thank you for finding me sleepwalking through the school grounds and oh, by the way, thank you for deciding to take a midnight stroll in the fucking coldest night of the year”_?

“So, I—”

“Thank y—”

They decided to speak at the same time and fell silent again. Draco weakly smiled and signalled her with his head.

“I just wanted to thank you for… Well, for accompanying me back to my dormitory,” Anya finally said, slapping herself mentally for the poor phrase she’d finally chosen.

“Oh, yeah, no problem. I—I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he clumsily answered. “Unless you need to take the day off and rest, we can see each other on Monday to prepare my following class.”

“Tomorrow’s fine, I’ll meet you tomorrow at our usual time,” Anya said and started heading towards the entrance of the Ravenclaw common room.

Just as Draco had turned on his heels to walk back to his room, he heard her faint voice from behind: “Goodnight, Draco.”

He turned his head sideways, slightly grinning. “Goodnight, Anya.”

The Head Girl went into her common room and sighed.

Even though her head was clouded with thoughts and the fire in the fireplace had long extinguished, she could find some comfort in the warmth inside her body despite the unforgiving wind that ruffled the leaves outside her windows.


	15. To No Avail

Anya and Draco were carelessly chatting as they made their way out of the library. Madame Pince shot them a deathly glare but didn’t say anything since it was a professor who was accompanying the student and he was supposed to have some manners and respect her holy sanctuary of silence and tiptoeing. She did, however, clear her throat when Anya couldn’t hold back a snigger at the sight of Draco almost toppling over the height of the pile of books he was carrying. He glared at her and, with a chivalrous bow, Anya took out her wand and levitated the books in front of his eyes. The blonde professor looked back at her in disbelief, wondering how the hell hadn’t he come up with that idea in the first place.

“Yeah, I know,” Anya replied, as if reading his mind. “You weren’t a Ravenclaw for a reason.”

Draco was about to retort when they came to a sudden halt as they reached the big wooden library doors. In front of them, Ari and Ky were looking at them, wide-eyed and still hand in hand.

There was an awkward silence between them, as Ari looked at his friend and silently asked her what was that all about. Anya cleared her throat.

“Hi, Ky! Ari! How are you two?” she asked, her voice a higher pitch than normal.

“Hey, Anya! We were just headed to the library to… study,” Ky answered cluelessly, not wanting to tell her they were actually going to research on Ari’s illness as they had been doing for the past week.

“That’s great!” Anya replied and felt silent again.

Ari cleared his throat and signalled at Draco with a slight movement of his head. Draco noticed it and took a step forward.

“Sato, Thomas,” he acknowledged them, curtly nodding. “If you’ll excuse me, I ran into Mrs. Rodríguez and asked her whether she could help me carry all these books back to my desk. Good evening.”

Anya smiled at her friends and followed her professor, leaving Ari incredulously staring.

She picked up her pace to walk alongside Draco. He noticed she was next to him and raised his eyebrows. “Why did you look so embarrassed? It’s not like they don’t know you’re assisting me.”

Anya guiltily smiled and his mouth formed a perfect circle. “Oh,” he answered. “They don’t know, do they?”

“No, they don’t. I haven’t told them.”

“But why? Do you not want them to know _the_ Draco Malfoy can actually be a rather pleasant company?” he retorted.

Anya sucked in her lips and looked down. “Who said you were? I surely never did.”

Draco immediately frowned in a mocking manner, as if he was offended by her comment. “ _This_ is how you treat your professors? How are you a Head Girl, are all your other mates bloody _trolls?_ ”

Anya stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes open wide. Draco’s heart started pounding. “What? What happened?”

She placed her hand on her chest and widely opened her mouth. “Did you just… _make a joke?_ I didn’t know you had it in you! _”_

Draco rolled his eyes and snorted. “Don’t get too used to it. Merlin forgive professors have a sense of humour!”

He turned around, his face still serious, but couldn’t help it when the ends of his mouth curled up just for an instant, before he realised and turned his lips back into a thin line. Anya noticed and she too had to look the other way, not knowing why her lips had mimicked his.

“Really though,” Draco said, making Anya’s head jerk up. “Why didn’t you tell them?”

Anya panicked, trying to come up with an excuse since she couldn’t tell him the actual reason: McGonagall had specifically asked her not to say anything about her task, so she had to keep it a secret.

“Well, I didn’t tell them because then they would ask why I’m doing this and I don’t want Arthur Weasley to think I didn’t want to come to him for an internship at the Ministry,” she answered, mentally patting herself in the back for her quick response.

“Well, of course you wouldn’t ask _him_ , he works with bloody Mugg—,” he was about to answer, but realised halfway through his sentence that Anya would probably scold him for that.

“Come again?” Anya said, raising her eyebrow as if she was trying to challenge him to finish that sentence.

“I—I meant… Ugh, why do you make me question _everything_ I say,” he said in a frustrated tone, his left hand brushing through his blonde hair.

“Oh, darling, you should be thanking me or else someone would eventually hex you,” she said and opened her eyes in surprise as she noticed she had accidentally call him “darling”, just as she did with her friends when she wanted to mess with them.

Draco disguised his laugh as a cough and looked at her; his mouth was still a fine line, but his eyes were smiling. “Oh, it’s a common mix-up with words that start with a “D”: it’s _D-R-A-C-O,_ kind of hard to pronounce.”

Anya looked mortified as she tried to apologise. “Sorry, professor, I didn’t mean to call you that… It’s just that I always use that word when I’m joking around and it kind of slipped from my tongue… I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t worry, Anya, I was just joking,” he answered and then looked away.

They reached the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom and silently put down the books they were carrying. They sat down and began rumbling through the pages, trying to find the material they needed for the following class.

“I didn’t mean it like that, you know,” Draco suddenly burst out and Anya looked up from her book, intrigued.

“What do you mean?”

“When you were talking about Arthur Weasley, I didn’t—I don’t know why I said that,” he replied, fiddling with his rings. “My father hates him, but I’ve read about him in The Daily Prophet and heard some people who work at the Ministry talk about him. He… he seems to be a good Head of Department,” he said in a low voice.

Anya knew how much effort he must’ve been putting into what he was saying, so she held her witty remarks and just smiled at him.

“Yeah, he is one of the nicest people I know,” she added with a smile. “And Muggles aren’t bad at all, especially their music! You should try listening to them, there are great bands.”

“As if,” Draco answered. “I’d rather stick to the Hobgoblins, thank you very much.”

“But you haven’t even given it a chance! There’s this great rock band called Nirvana that have amazing music that sounds pretty similar to the Hobgoblins…”

“ _Please_ don’t torture me, Anya. I’m taking this one step at a time,” he joked, and Anya just laughed and looked back down to her books.

He watched her from the corner of his eye, the way her brown, curly hair cascaded down her face and covered it from his view. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose every few minutes and her hazel eyes danced through the lines of the old, dusty book she was holding. He would never admit it, but he was quite grateful she had asked him to be his teaching assistant because she was surprisingly an enjoyable company.

That same moment, Anya’s head was a twirling mess of thoughts. She felt his eyes piercing through the curtain of hair that fell before her face and wondered what he was thinking. She was astonished to see they were getting along quite well, and he was even, although at first reluctantly, willing to learn a thing or two. It frustrated her that she couldn’t figure him out, him and his sudden changes of behaviour. One moment he was scowling at her and the next, he was joking around. She couldn’t tell which one of the two he actually was, if the spoiled kid who played nice or the nice man who acted tough.

They remained in a comfortable silence until Draco had to light up the torches perched on the walls and realised it was already time for dinner. They left their separate ways after waving each other goodbye; Anya was halfway down the corridor when her bag split open and all her books fell to the ground. She bent down to pick them all up and, as she was about to resume her walk, she heard the distinct sounds of arguing from the corridor opposite to her. Cursing the day they had made her Head Girl, her stomach roaring with hunger, she made her way towards the noise, eager to break up whatever argument was being held so she could go down and get some dinner.

Anya was about to turn around the corner when a glacial voice made the hairs on the back of her neck tickle. She would recognise it anywhere, slithering through the air and into her ears, but it had been long since she had heard it so ruthless, so full of hatred. She quickened her pace only to see Draco, his always neat black suit now drenched in pumpkin juice and a terrified Mara Creevey, the youngest of the Creevey siblings, the front of her Gryffindor robes stained the same shade of orange.

“Hasn’t your mother taught you how to bloody walk, Creevey?” Draco asked, a threatening tone in his voice.

“I’m so sorry sir, I didn’t see you—I didn’t mean to—,” Mara replied with a flustered look on her face.

“Is everything okay here?” Anya asked as she approached them, attentively looking from one to the other. 

Draco turned his body to her, surprised to see her there. “Stay out of this, Anya.”

“I won’t,” she defied him. “Let me take some points off her and let her go.”

“Please leave, I can handle this,” Draco replied, clenching his fists.

“I won’t let you harass a student, _sir_ ,” Anya stated, and Draco felt something break inside of him at the way she pronounced that last word.

He looked down at the young Gryffindor, who had remained uncommonly silent during the whole exchange. He looked at her with such disgust that she may as well have been covered in dirt.

“Leave, Creevey, unless you’ll clean my suit,” he simply stated.

Mara Creevey didn’t notice the sarcasm behind the last part of the sentence, and she took a step forward, trying to clean the stains in his clothing with her own red and gold tie in an attempt to ease his wrath.

Draco jumped back and his grey eyes fixed themselves on the girl’s blue ones, which were horrifyingly staring at his now slightly askew suit.

“Keep your filthy hands off of me, you dirty mudblood,” he exclaimed, not noticing Anya dangerously approaching him, shielding her wand.

She pushed his shoulder and, before he could react, pressed her wand to his throat and pinned him to the nearest wall. Draco, who was used to the sight of her calm, honey eyes, couldn’t help but be afraid when he noticed the pure disgust in them, but there was also something else he couldn’t quite decipher.

“You—I can’t believe you. I thought you had changed,” she muttered under her breath so the young Gryffindor wouldn’t hear her.

If she had shown any sign of weakness, she quickly brushed it off as she stood straighter and kept her wand at his throat. She was breathing heavily and staring into Draco’s eyes, looking for any sign of remorse.

She breathed in and out and stepped away. She then looked at the astonished Gryffindor and muttered “ _Obliviate”_ while pointing at her; her eyes softened, her smile reappeared on her face and she enthusiastically waved at the two of them before hopping towards the Great Hall, having forgotten the scene she had just witnessed.

Once they were left alone in the corridor, Anya started walking away, not wanting to spend another minute with the blonde professor who was unable to think of the right thing to say.

“Anya, come back here,” he shouted at her.

She stopped, turned around and just looked at him. “It’s Rodríguez, sir. I’ll see you in class on Thursday.”

“But you’re supposed to help me tomorrow,” he replied.

“I think I’m done helping you, professor,” she answered and with one last looked, disappeared around the corner.

Draco stayed in place. He had managed to recognise that other feeling behind Anya’s eyes: it was deep and utter hurt.


	16. I Didn't Know You Could Read

“Rodríguez? Care to answer my question?”

Anya didn’t realise she hadn’t been paying attention to her Transfigurations class up until that moment. She had got lost somewhere in McGonagall’s explanation on how to turn dogs into cats without them barking, too distracted by the views of the Black Lake from her window and too lost in her thoughts to be able to pay attention to anything other than them.

“I’m sorry, professor, would you mind repeating the question?” Anya asked, too mortified to look her in the eyes.

“My question was, what’s the wand movement that corresponds to the spell we’re learning today?” McGonagall repeated, shocked to learn the Head Girl hadn’t been paying attention.

Anya’s mind went blank as she tried to recall if she had heard something about wand movements amid her turbulent thoughts. She noticed from the corner of her eye how Marcus, who was sitting beside her, almost imperceptibly slid his open book towards her. His fingers slowly lifted the page for her to see and she noticed he had circled a fragment in the first paragraph, where she could clearly read “ _… wand movement pertinent to this particular spell consists of the wand holder moving his hand diagonally, from left to right in an ascending movement, and then drawing a number ‘3’ in the air, while chanting the words.”_

“Yes, professor, one would have to move his hand in a diagonal manner from left to right and then draw a number three,” Anya quickly replied.

“That’s correct, Rodríguez,” McGonagall replied, turning her back to face the chalkboard. “Five points to Gryffindor, since Bagman knew the answer although he’s a terrible actor.”

Everyone around them laughed, Anya included, and she turned to her side to thank Marcus. He was already looking at her, a small grin on his face that didn’t reach his eyes as he mouthed “ _are you okay?”_ at her. Anya gave him a warm smile and nodded, squeezing his hand that was resting on his thigh for reassurance. That seemed to ease Marcus, who winked at her and went back to his notes, unable to wipe the smile off his lips.

Once McGonagall’s attention had been diverted, Anya tried to pay attention to what she was saying but her thoughts keep wandering back to some nights ago, when she had encountered Draco Malfoy mistreating a student. That night, lying wide awake on her bed, she couldn’t stop thinking about it; even though she had seen a side of him she didn’t know even existed, she had always been convinced he’d eventually go back to his usual manners and surprised herself by being disappointed when it occurred. She shouldn’t be, she knew him during his time at Hogwarts and so she already knew how he thought so poorly of anyone who wasn’t a Pureblood and how he was known for losing his temper quite often. Anya found it hard to admit it to herself, but eventually she had to: he had somehow managed to convince her there was another side of him that only she could see, the one hidden behind the cold surface everyone else knew. The feeling that was eating her alive, that kept her restless at night, wasn’t anger or sadness: it was disappointment, and she knew once someone disappointed her, it was extremely challenging for her to see the other person with the same eyes again.

She was suddenly interrupted by the sound of the chairs’ metal legs scraping against the marble floor and she knew the class was over. She was about to get up but saw her professor walking up towards her, looking straight into her eyes. Once she reached Anya’s desk, everyone was gone but Marcus, who was standing next to the entrance waiting for the Ravenclaw to join him and had to be told to leave by McGonagall. With a disgruntled look, he did so, and the professor closed the door behind him.

“Hello, Rodríguez,” McGonagall greeted her. “I’ve noticed your mind kept wandering away from my class today. Is everything alright?”

Anya smiled at her, despite the millions of negative answers in her head. Even before she had been assigned her task by the Order, she had always had a special relationship with her Transfiguration teacher. Other than Lupin, she had always been her favourite and even got the chance to know more about her throughout the years. She knew she’d notice she wasn’t quite alright, she always did.

She decided to tell her the truth. “I don’t know, professor. I’ve just been thinking, and I don’t think I can keep doing what you asked me to do.”

“And may I ask why?” her professor asked, sitting down in front of her.

“Professor Malfoy and I had a bit of a… misunderstanding,” Anya replied. “It may not sound like a valid reason to give up on my task, but I can’t be around someone who thinks the way he does about anyone who isn’t like him.”

McGonagall sat in front of her, in deep thinking, staring at the now receding sunlight that brushed the tip of her shoes.

“Well, Rodríguez, I can’t tell you what to do and I certainly wouldn’t want you doing anything that would cause you any discomfort,” she slowly replied. “But I highly encourage you to think about whether you believe there is a chance you could look past your _misunderstanding_ and try to see things from his perspective. Maybe you’ll find yourself getting where he’s coming from.”

Anya sighed. “Maybe. I just need some time to think about it, if that’s okay.”

“Of course, Rodríguez, no problem at all. Now, off you go,” McGonagall replied, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

Anya left the room and headed towards the library, where she was supposed to meet her friends for a study session. Once she got there, she spotted the table where her friends were sitting down, their heads buried in the books they were holding. The first one to notice her was Marcus, who moved the chair immediately next to him away from the table with his foot; Ginny, who snorted at the boy’s manners, was the second to notice and winked at the Ravenclaw who sat down and took out her books. She decided to rest for a while before opening them, so she sat down and looked around.

“I thought we were studying Charms?” she suddenly said, after noticing Ari and Ky were holding “ _A Hundred and One Magical Diseases”_ and “ _Innovative Healing: Modern Treatments for Ancient Illnesses”_ , respectively.

“Oh, yeah, we were just─” Ari blurted out, desperately trying to come up with something to say.

“… Helping me! He’s helping me. I’ve found a liking to healing and we’re just researching on this topic Madame Pomfrey told me about,” Ky finished her boyfriend’s sentence, placing her sleek hand on his.

“Silence!”

“Merlin’s fuck─”

“Language!”

“Sorry!”

Ari, Ky, Luna, Marcus and Anya had to cover their mouths to avoid laughing at Ginny, who jumped from her seat the moment Madame Pince’s voice scolded them from behind her back. She was clutching her heart and glaring at her friends who couldn’t stop laughing.

“Don’t you all have better things to do than fucking laugh at me? Why would I bother having enemies if I have this type of friends,” she said and bent her head down to continue reading, a mass of red between the yellow pages.

Eventually they all went back to their reading and Anya started scribbling away on her parchment. A comfortable silence filled the room, and it would only be interrupted when one of the six friends got up and disappeared behind the packed shelves, returning with more books that ended up being piled near the centre of the table, gaining such height that they had to cast a spell to keep them from collapsing onto their heads.

“Guess who’s here,” Ginny said, sitting down with three more books to add to the pile.

“Who?” Luna asked, absentmindedly.

“Draco Malfoy,” the red head replied.

Anya’s quill stopped mid-sentence and a blotch of blue ink erased the last word she had written. Afraid her friends would notice, she took out her wand and cleaned it up.

“At the library? Are you sure?” Ari asked.

“Well, I don’t know how many bleach haired professors there are in Hogwarts, but I’d say not many,” Ginny retorted.

“It’s strange, isn’t it? I didn’t know he could read,” he replied, earning a laugh from all his friends.

Anya forced a laugh of her own, but her head was already running wild. She hoped he didn’t approach her in front of her friends, she wouldn’t know what to tell them and, most importantly, what to say to him. She had been successful at avoiding her professor for the past days, dreading the time she’d had to see him in class again. She resolved she would just remain on her seat until she could be sure he wouldn’t be in the library and then resume her browsing through the shelves.

Not five minutes had gone by that a loud thump made her jump from her chair and look around to see whether she needed to scold a first year for being too loud. Her eyes then met the back of Draco’s head, who was bent down and trying to pile up the books he had just dropped. She then saw Mara Creevey approach him and kneel next to him to help with his books; Anya kept an eye on them in case she needed to intervene again, but her professor simply gave the Gryffindor a small smile and let her place the books on top of his arms. He nodded at her, as a wordless thank you, carefully sat the books on one of the tables and went back to his thorough search in the section of the library he had just been browsing. His temples were glistening with a few drops of sweat he quickly wiped with his forearm and he rolled up his sleeves before scanning through the books again. His long, agile fingers gently caressed the spines of the ancient books as he moved his hands in order to read the different titles, his rings leaving soft marks on the leather-bound volumes: even from where she was sitting, Anya could see his furrowed eyebrows in concentration and the way his front teeth bit down onto his lip, making it pop out, as he tried to find the books he was looking for. Whenever he had to stretch his arms to reach a book in a higher shelf, his black, skintight shirt outlined his arms and displayed a portion of skin near his belt. However disappointed and determined not to talk to him ever again Anya may have been, she couldn’t manage to keep her eyes off of him and notice how the few beams of sunlight that escaped from the small windows atop the shelves worked like chisels, sculpting his marble-like features; the outline of his face was so precise, his chin sharp, his cheekbones deep and his eyes still a turbulent grey.

“Anya?” she heard Marcus say and snapped back to reality.

Draco heard it too and for the first time, looked over at where she was sitting. Their eyes met for a split second before he turned around, quickly hiding the books behind his body and away from her sight. Anya saw his broad shoulders tense, going up and down in deep breaths, before he grabbed his books with some difficulty and tried balancing them as best as he could so they wouldn’t topple down to the ground again. He turned around and couldn’t help but look at the Ravenclaw again, whose eyes were still fixed on him. The sunlight that penetrated her hazel eyes made all the other colours in her irises surface; the slightly yellow hue near where they were met with her pupils, the deep green shade that melted into the light brown that covered most of her eye and the black outline that divided the colour from her white scleras. Draco had always known cold and impenetrable stares; he had been raised looking into grey eyes, the kind that pull you into a whirlwind and suffocate you. The only comfort he had ever found amidst all the harsh, cloud-coloured eyes had been her mother’s, a deep, blue shade in which he found comfort in reminiscing about the sea. He could get lost in them and feel the salt in his lungs, the wind ruffling his blonde hair and the sand between his toes.

He had never thought he could find warmth in someone’s eyes, but he realised his mistake as he had to walk away from the only person who owned the brown orbs that could break the thick, ice wall behind which he had been obliged to hide for the past nineteen years of his life.

Anya watched him from the corner of her eye as he left, pretending to be immersed in deep reading about non-verbal spells. Once she was sure he had left, she put her book down and lent back on her chair, trying to sort out her thoughts.

“Are you okay, love?” Marcus asked from her side, gently squeezing her thigh.

“I am, don’t worry,” she answered unconvincingly, smiling at him. “I just remembered I have to grab a book; I’ll be right back.”

She got up without waiting for his reply and hid behind one of the large bookshelves. She pressed her back to it and closed her eyes, hoping that if she did, all her confusion would go away. There was something inside her that kept telling her to talk to him again, but she wouldn’t.

In an attempt to clear her head, she started carelessly walking around the library, getting lost in the long corridors filled with knowledge. A few minutes later, she noticed she had walked into the same section she had seen Draco in and, out of curiosity, got closer to the shelves in order to read the titles of the books he had been looking for, drawn by his secrecy. She deeply furrowed her eyebrows as she noticed the entire section was filled with books on lycanthropy; she knew they had already done their research on that topic, she herself had helped him with the books they needed, and she’d even corrected the essays the third years had written after their class on werewolves.

Her mind started racing; if they had already covered that subject, why would he want so many books on the topic?

And then, an idea popped in her head: unless he needed them for personal reasons. The sneaking around the castle, the night he found her in the middle of the night, the potion he had seen him holding, the mood swings…

“No,” Anya whispered to herself. “He can’t be.”


	17. Happy Christmas, Happy Birthday

Anya was awake, but still laying on her bed with her eyes closed. The blue curtains that hid her bed from view were still drawn and she took her time to stretch, tossing and turning on her mattress until Sofía joined her and licked her good morning. She kissed her cat’s head as she purred against her lips and finally got up, changing from her pyjamas into her favourite brown sweater. She spent no more than ten minutes in the bathroom, only to apply a coat of mascara and wet her hands to give some movement to her wavy hair to which she then applied a little gel. She could have taken her time, being the only seventh year Ravenclaw in her dormitory, but decided to get an early start so she could get the freshly baked _croissants_ before they cooled down.

She went down the stairs and into her common room; she was distractedly letting Sofía play with the laces of her shoes so there was no way she could see the two boys silently approaching her from her left.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” they both shouted in unison as Anya’s body jumped in surprise.

“Merlin, don’t scare a girl that’s playing with her cat like that!” she replied as she took her cat into her arms, gently stroking her back. “Thank you, guys. And happy Christmas to you!”

She was then hugged from both her sides by the Slytherin and Gryffindor boys, who were careful not to crush her cat who was still in her arms. Marcus then kissed her forehead as Ari proceeded to grab Sofía and set her down on one of the pillows, much to her distraught.

“Sit the fuck down and get ready for your presents!” the black-eyed boy said, guiding her to one of the blue armchairs as she laughed and let herself be seated.

“Mine first, mine first!” Ari said, handing her a neatly wrapped package.

Anya smiled at her best friend who looked like a child, jumping around in excitement. She carefully undid the wrapping (despite Ari’s huffs, who almost ripped the present away and unveiled it himself) and stared in awe when she had disclosed what was inside.

“Ari, are you taking the piss? I can’t accept this,” she mumbled under her breath, unable to keep her eyes off her gift.

“Of course you can accept it, you twat. I won’t let you return it,” he answered, satisfied with himself.

Anya looked bewildered as she was still tracing the white marble set of inkwell and different sized quill tips with her hands. The box also contained lilac-coloured parchment, three ink bottles (one blue, one black and the other one full of ink that changed colours depending on one’s mood) and two different quills, one with a black feather with blue highlights and the other with a flaming red one.

The Ravenclaw got up from her seat and tightly hugged Ari, who was careful not to let her too close to the left side of his chest but embraced her back with the same amount of strength.

“Thank you, Ari, it’s the most beautiful gift I’ve ever received,” she sincerely said, looking up at him and smiling.

He affectionately booped her nose. “You’re welcome, Anya. Also, Dean sends his love and says you’re invited to his and Seamus’ to get a legal tattoo anytime you want. May as well seize the opportunity and let him tattoo your butt chee─”

He had to cover his head with his arms to avoid being hit by the pillow Anya threw at him. Ever since she had accidentally slipped, back in fourth year, that she had a crush on his brother, he had never stopped bothering her.

She then looked at Marcus, who was sitting on the armchair with Sofía on his lap, one of his hands stroking her back and the other casually running through his own hair. He was smiling at them and, when he noticed it was his turn to give Anya her present, he gently placed the black cat back on the pillow and walked up to his friend.

“Happy birthday, Anya,” he said, handing her a rectangular package along with a smaller package.

She tried not to tear the navy-blue paper wrapping as she opened both her presents. Once she did, she was speechless for the second time in the day.

Inside the small box, there was a delicate pendant. When she took it out, she realised it was an owl that had two small sapphires as its eyes and spread its wings when you tickled it. The rectangular gift turned out to be a copy of a book by one of her favourite Latin American authors, which looked as old as time. When she opened it, she realised there were tiny notes on the margins of the worn-out book.

When she inquisitively looked at the Gryffindor, he was blushing and simply answered: “Yeah, the gifts need a little bit of explaining. The pendant is actually an _Auxilium_ , which means that you can tap four times on the owl’s head and it’ll emit a whistle that only the person who gifted it to you can hear.”

“Like a dog, innit?” Ari added.

“Shut it, Thomas.”

“If I were Anya, I’d tell you to make me.”

The Ravenclaw hit him hard in the arm and Marcus sighed, trying to hide his smile.

“Anyway,” he continued. “And the book’s because I had to read it for my poetry class back when I was learning Spanish and I really liked it, so I just thought maybe you’d like it too.”

Anya looked at him in the eyes the entire time and she smiled at the way his eyes glistened while he talked to her.

“I love this, Marcus, I love it so much. Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she answered and pecked him on the cheek.

He wrapped his two arms around her tiny figure and brought her to his chest, where Anya closed her eyes and let herself be embraced by his warmth and the smell of wood and mint.

“Well, it’s not every day you turn eighteen, is it?” he smiled at her and kissed her forehead.

After Anya had given them their Christmas presents, they went down to the Great Hall and sat down on the Ravenclaw table. It was almost ten in the morning and every person that had stayed for the holidays was there, enjoying the peaceful morning. Ari and Marcus looked at each other and grinned.

Before Anya could ask what their problem was, Ari stood up on his bench and cupped his mouth.

“Excuse me, if I could have your attention” he said, and Anya’s eyes opened in horror as she realised what was going on.

And then, both him and Marcus started chanting the happy birthday song.

Since she was a seventh year and there weren’t many people who didn’t go home for the holidays, everyone joined in immediately. Anya looked around and even the professors were singing and clapping, from McGonagall to Trelawney. Anya looked to the furthest end of the long table and noticed Draco was clapping as well, a slight smile on his face; she quickly turned her head, not wanting him to spot her staring.

Every student and teacher clapped when the song was over and Anya, although she would never admit it, enjoyed the rest of her breakfast with her two friends (and Ky, who joined them shortly after), being greeted by everyone who got up to leave the Great Hall.

When they were ready to leave too, they had to accompany Anya back to her common room; her friends’ arms were full of presents she had received with the morning post (including her parents’ and Ginny and Luna’s presents too, who were spending the festivities back at The Burrow) and she was trying on the new burgundy sweater she had received from Molly and Arthur Weasley, which bore a “Head Girl” embroidery along with a letter “A” on her left sleeve.

Anya was ready to spend the day reading the new books she had got, but her friends had other plans.

“Get up, you lazy ass, we’re celebrating your birthday,” Ari said, lifting her from the armchair she had thrown herself upon.

Anya was about to reply when she noticed Ky coming down from the stairs that led to her room. The birthday girl arched her eyebrow, to which the Hufflepuff just responded: “Sorry, had to get something from your trunk for your celebration. I couldn’t tell you or I’d spoil it.”

It took some convincing, but Anya finally gave in. Marcus took out his tie from his pocket and covered her eyes with it; she protested, but her friends were too eager to surprise her and they embarked on their adventure.

They had been walking for at least ten minutes when they finally stopped. Anya heard Marcus mutter some words and then, the sound of a heavy door. They brought her inside and finally let her take off the tie from her eyes.

They had taken her to the Prefect’s bathroom in the fourth floor. Near the edge of the enormous bathtub, there were plates with cake, sweets and her favourite dishes for meal. They also had bottles of butterbeer and pumpkin juice.

Marcus kneeled to turn on the faucets and Ky took Anya’s red swimsuit from her pocket, waving it in front of her eyes. “Time to change, birthday girl.”

***

It was nearly five in the afternoon when Anya finally got back to her common room, this time unaccompanied, to change before dinner. She decided to let her hair dry before meeting her friends again and so she sat by the fireside, grabbing a neatly folded blue duvet and readied herself to dive into her new book. She was about to open it up when she saw a medium sized package hidden behind one of the pillows on the armchair. She stretched to take it out from there, afraid someone would sit and break it, and was about to put it on the nearby table when she read the little note attached to it and noticed it was addressed to her in a cursive handwriting that didn’t look like anyone’s she knew.

She quickly went through the people who could’ve gifted her in her mind: her parents, Ari, Marcus, Luna, Ginny and the Weasleys, Harry, Hermione. They had all already given her presents and she couldn’t think of anyone else who could be missing. Maybe one of her cousins? She doubted that; even though she had a good relationship with some of them, their parents would certainly forbid them to maintain any sort of contact with her and her family.

She finally decided to stop trying to guess and open it up. Once she unwrapped it, her jaw dropped at the sight of the present: it was a record player unlike any she had ever seen. Its colour was iridescent, and it reminded her of the one time she had been in muggle London and learnt that, when cars have oil leaks, they leave a pattern behind that resembles a circular rainbow. She moved it around, mesmerized, and noticed the colour changed according to the lighting. It didn’t have any buttons, and instead there was a card on the lid that showed which spells to use to be able to turn it on, change tracks and turn the volume up and down.

She then realised there was a second thing on the box; when she took it out, she read the cover of the vinyl she was holding: _Bleach_ by Nirvana. Her eyes filled with tears of happiness, since she couldn’t comprehend how the person who had sent the gift had known it was her favourite album from her favourite band and she had been saving up for over a year to get it. She traced the outline of the disc carefully, not wanting to damage it but unable to take her eyes off of it. Just then, a piece of paper flew from the box and landed on her lap. She unfolded it, eager to know who she should be thanking for such a thoughtful gift. Her eyes scanned the piece of parchment, which was written in the same cursive letter in a beautiful green ink:

_To my favourite assistant._

_I had already purchased this, so I thought I may as well give it to you despite the circumstances._

_Happy birthday, Anya. I wish you the best._

_Thank you for all your help._

_Sincerely,_

  1. _L. M._



In that moment, Anya was certain of two things: firstly, she was deeply hurt and couldn’t believe she had let her own feelings in the way of a task she was given, resulting in absolutely fucking it up.

And secondly, there was something about the thoughtfulness behind the gift she had just received that made her insides warm up, but she couldn’t decide whether it was just the gift or the person behind it.

She went into her dormitory, where she placed her record player on her bed and followed the instructions. When the vinyl set itself on the mat and started spinning, she was ready to start singing along to the first song, “Blew”.

But to her surprise, it started playing on a different track. Anya had to read once again the track list just to make sure she was right, but there was no mistake; the disc skipped directly to the third song, “About a Girl”.

And as she listened to it again, she couldn’t help but hum along to the lead singer’s words:

_I need an easy friend_

_I do, with an ear to lend_

_I do think you fit this shoe_

_I do, but you have a clue_

Cobain’s voice faded out and Anya found herself immersed in a loaded silence before the first strums of the guitar solo in the following song began. She then paused it and sat on her bed, her chin on her hands.

She then decided to play the track again, and again, until the time came when she had to turn the record player off and go down to the Great Hall where her friends would be waiting for her, unaware of the secret gift she had lastly received and she couldn’t stop thinking about.


	18. A Strange Glow

“You’re the one who’s a Ravenclaw, it should be _you_ who’s studying during the holidays, not us,” Ari huffed, his head buried in his Arithmancy book.

Anya had decided to stay at Hogwarts for the holidays, since it was the last Christmas she would be able to spend at school, and she had been convinced her friends would be staying too. Her plans started falling apart when Ginny told her the Weasleys had invited Luna over to The Burrow, but they said nothing as they knew there was probably more to that than they told. Anya found comfort in the fact that at least Marcus, Ari and Ky were staying with her too, but it was the twenty-eight of December and her three friends were sitting in the library, studying and doing the homework they had been sent by their professors.

“Come on! Let’s go do something fun,” Anya replied, looking at Marcus. “Pretty please?”

She pouted at him, knowing he hardly ever resisted her charm. He looked up for only a second, enough time to cup her chin with her right hand and caress her cheek with his thumb.

“You know I wish I could, but I’m really behind with all of this. Not everyone’s as methodical as you, love,” he answered before looking back down to his notes.

Anya sighed and leant back on her chair. Knowing she would want to enjoy her last vacations at Hogwarts, she had written all the essays she had to hand in after New Year’s the day their holidays started. But seeing as her friends didn’t look like they’d be getting up from their chairs anytime soon, she grabbed her bag and stood up.

“You lot are no fun,” she told them, as she straightened the wrinkles that had formed on her new sweater.

“You’re the worst Head Girl I’ve met, I hope you know that,” Ari replied while sticking out his tongue.

“Yes, well… I was smart enough not to leave my homework for the holidays so I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

She left the library and went up to her dormitory to grab a book. She would’ve enjoyed the quiet in the Ravenclaw common room but the heat exuded from the fire never failed to make her feel drowsy and she really wanted to read the remaining poems of the book Marcus had gifted her. She also grabbed a blanket and, on her way to her reading spot, she paid a visit to the kitchens.

As soon as she stepped through the door that opened when she tickled the pear in the nearby painting, she was greeted by two small hands that tugged at her pants.

“Winky!” she exclaimed, kneeling to hug her.

“Miss Anya!” she squealed in her high-pitched voice.

Anya had been one of the few people, along with Hermione, who had actually taken an interest in the house elves that worked at Hogwarts. She had gone down to the kitchen countless times, in an attempt to understand them and keep her Gryffindor friend from offending them with her eagerness to have them be salaried workers at the school. With Hermione’s drive and Anya’s knowledge of the magical world, they had managed to talk some of them into accepting payments and holidays, though not all of them. Winky had always been her favourite and she loved to see her new self, thriving as Head of the kitchens. She no longer wore stained pillowcases, but a neat, black and blue uniform (which was originally white, but Winky had asked Anya to help her change its colours so they could have matching uniforms).

“What can Winky do for Miss Anya?” she asked, wiping a single tear that had escaped her tennis-ball looking eyes.

“I was just wondering if I could have a cup of hot chocolate and maybe even something to eat,” she asked the elf.

Winky squealed in excitement and ran towards the stoves, tapping her foot to one of the armchairs beside the fire on her way. “Kreacher, wake up! Look who’s here!”

The tiny figure hiding behind the red fireside chair turned around and nodded in acknowledgement. “Afternoon, miss.”

Anya saluted back and decided not to engage in conversation with the Black’s former house elf, for their past encounters hadn’t been quite pleasant. Anya knew where his loyalties lied, having seen him lead the kitchen elves during the battle that had unravelled the previous year, but she preferred to maintain a cordial yet distant relationship with him.

Five minutes later, Winky approached her again with the same excitement but this time, more carefully so she wouldn’t spill the contents of the big cup she was holding. Anya could smell the scent of chocolate even from that distance and could see the added marshmallows on top. She had topped it with a substance that the Ravenclaw believed to be sweet pumpkin sauce.

Anya grabbed it thankfully and almost toppled over the weight of the small basket she was given with her drink.

“Oh, Winky, you do know it’s just me who’s eating, right? I couldn’t possibly finish up all the food in here,” she replied after having peeked inside.

“I insist you take all of this, miss. You can always give the remaining to Mister Marcus!” she added with a squeal while her cheeks turned a crimson red.

“I see,” Anya added with a knowing smile. “Thank you again, for everything. And oh! Before I forget,” she added, searching in her pockets. “Happy late Christmas.”

Winky’s already enormous eyes widened, grabbing Anya’s present between her bony hands. She carefully undid the wrapping, folding it neatly and placing it on the nearby table. She lifted the lid and almost dropped it out of the sheer excitement she was experiencing.

“It’s a Christmas sweater!” she squealed. “I’ve never had a Christmas sweater before!”

And with that, she pulled it through her head and let Anya admire it, before signalling her to kneel and giving her a surprisingly strong hug.

After countless _thank you’s_ and a few shed tears, Anya finally left the kitchens and went to the window by which she always sat when she wanted to read. She loved to feel the cold winter breeze on her skin and the castle sheltered her whenever the wind got rough. She sat down, stretched the blanket over her legs and held the book with her left hand while she surrounded the hot cup with her right hand. There were few students at Hogwarts and all of them were either cozied up beside the fire in their common rooms or getting some work done before New Year’s at the library, so the deserted corridors were noiseless and all she could hear were the distant hoots of the owls, an occasional bark from Fang across the grounds and the ruffling of leaves whenever the wind brushed the treetops. She felt more at ease than she had in a long time.

***

At around six in the afternoon, Anya had to jump down from the windowsill and wrap her body with the blanket on her way to the Ravenclaw common room. The harsh wind was tangling her hair and she quickened her pace, already savouring the heat from the fire on her skin.

She was walking across one of the many courtyards when she suddenly stopped. She stood still, trying to distinguish what she had just heard from her own unsteady heartbeat.

And then, she heard it again.

It was the same sort of whisper she had heard in her dream when Draco had found her wandering around the castle grounds at night. The same bone chilling sensation ran through her body and this time, she was sure it wasn’t just inside her head. It was happening and she couldn’t miss her opportunity again.

She ran the opposite way, towards the opening near the castle’s entrance. It was pitch black already and she had to light up her wand in order to see where she was walking. She frantically looked left and right, trying to decide where those voices were coming from. The wind was blowing from all directions and could be easily carrying the voices, making it impossible to pinpoint the exact direction in which she should be walking.

Just when Anya was about to start walking aimlessly in hopes of finding the source of the noise, a sudden bright light came from behind her and she had to shield her eyes with her hands in order to be able to look in its direction. Once her eyes had got used to the glow, she realised it was the same lion Patronus that had appeared in her dream. It looked at her for a minute and then started trotting in the direction of the Black Lake. She didn’t hesitate and started walking behind him.

Anya had to tighten her grip on her comforter as she got closer to the lake, for it was the most exposed part of the grounds and the unforgiving wind kept creeping into her clothes and making her shiver. She went around the water behind the silver lion as more and more questions formed in her mind, the first being “ _why the fuck am I following a lion around the grounds?”._ She had been thinking about it and she was almost certain she had never seen anyone cast a Patronus that looked like it.

After a few minutes of walking, she realised she was getting closer to where she was supposed to be because the voices got louder in her ears, although she still couldn’t make out what they were saying. Anya was fluent in more than one language, but she figured that one must be an extinct one since the words didn’t resemble any she knew. Something about them made her uneasy; even though she couldn’t understand a single sentence, they were low-pitched and threatening and that was enough to make her hold her wand even closer to her body.

At first, she thought the Patronus was glowing even brighter, but as she walked closer to the shore, she realised there was a second source of light coming from there. The lion stopped walking, looked back at her and vanished in front of her eyes; Anya’s heart started racing faster than it had been and she crept even closer. She could see the wind swinging the trees that outlined the Forbidden Forest but somehow, it didn’t seem to be reaching her. She had stopped shivering and the only thing she could hear were those voices, growing louder by the minute, and an inexplicable force pulling her towards the lake. There was something in the air, something she had never felt before; she felt powerful, unbeatable, unbreakable.

She was now close enough to see the strange object in all its glory; it was so bright she still couldn’t make out what was emitting the light, but she knew it was something small and thin. She pointed her wand at it and muttered “ _Accio”_ ; she wasn’t too shocked to see it didn’t work, since she didn’t know exactly what she was trying to summon, or even if it could be taken out from the water.

She then looked around and grabbed a tree branch that was laying close to her. She transfigured it into a large hook and plunged it into the lake, moving her hand above the surface to try to get hold of the object. After a few tries, she resolved that it couldn’t be hooked either, probably because of its flat surface.

She sat down on her blanket, careful not to accidentally dampen it. She then rolled up the right sleeve of both her sweater and her shirt below it, unconsciously shivering when she felt the glacial air penetrate her pores like daggers. One hand holding her lit up wand, she dipped the other into the water, immediately losing all sensitivity on the lower half of her arm as it penetrated the freezing surface. She blindly probed around until her fingers made contact with the source of the glow; it was really thin and rough to her fingertips, as well as quite long. She was about to pull her hand out of the water when three rope-like underwater plants cuffed her wrist, pulling her down. She shook her arm trying to get rid of them, but the more she fought, the more their grip tightened. She was almost elbow-deep in the water and quickly losing balance when she shouted “ _Diffindo”_ and the plants slithered away after the jet of light hit them.

She pulled her arm out and rolled her sleeves back down, in an attempt to heat her body up until she could dry in her common room. She then looked down at what she had just rescued from the lake and almost dropped it back in the water as she realised what it was.

She had never seen it from that close, but it was just as she remembered it to look like. It was long, thin and had wooden bumps up and down its body. She twirled it around her fingers, unable to believe how light it felt and how similar it was to what she had imagined it to look like in detail.

Anya suddenly came to the realisation that it must have been a mistake. It was most likely an imitation, quite a good one. She knew it was impossible; Ginny had told her how, after the Battle, it had been destroyed and tossed away, vanishing its power forever.

She immediately tried to test her theory. She pointed at the lake and muttered “ _Lumos”._ As soon as the last letter had escaped her mouth, she was slightly pushed backwards as the wand shot an alarmingly bright jet of light from its tip. Even when it was pitch black, for a few seconds Anya thought the sun had come out and she could see in thorough detail every little thing that surrounded her. She quickly muttered “ _Nox”_ , afraid someone would see the sudden explosion of light from one of the castle’s windows.

She sat there, breathless. She knew it was impossible, she knew it had been destroyed; but somehow, Anya was holding the Elder Wand between her fingers. She didn’t casually stumble upon it, it had been summoning her for weeks now; she didn’t understand why it had chosen her, but she was glad it was her who found it and not someone who could have ignoble intentions for it. She had read about it and she knew what it did to people, how it drove them mad and they ended up drowning in its power.

She knew she had to make a decision, seeing as it was already too late, and her friends would probably start wondering where she was.

She stood up, wrapped herself in the blanket and started walking towards the castle. Before going through its doors, she put the Elder Wand in her pocket, resolving to hide it in her dormitory.

It was that same moment when she promised herself she wouldn’t tell anyone about it; not until she had figured out how it had magically reassembled itself and why it had chosen her, out of all people, to find it once again.


	19. New Year

The morning of the thirsty first of December, Luna and Ginny woke up to a pitch black sky and Molly Weasley’s voice calling them from outside their door. They were sleeping in two separate beds but somehow, during the night, their hands slithered towards the other and Luna’s lay suspiciously close to Ginny’s, which was hanging loose from her bed.

They got up silently, too asleep to talk, and changed into their clothes as quickly as they could so their bare bodies wouldn’t have to be in contact with the freezing morning air.

“You look like you haven’t slept in three weeks,” Ginny said, pulling her arms into her sweater’s sleeves.

“You sure do know how to make a girl feel pretty,” the blonde answered, already wearing a smile on her face.

“I never said you weren’t,” the Weasley replied.

Luna had to turn her face, already feeling her cheeks growing hotter.

“Sit down here,” Ginny motioned.

Luna didn’t ask questions and sat down on her friend’s bed, who grabbed her face from her jaw and gently turned it sideways. The redhead felt a spark on the tip of her fingers when she touched her, but decided not to comment on it. She parted the blonde strands cautiously with her agile fingers and began braiding it, careful not to pull on her hair by accident.

“There,” she said, after a few moments of silence.

Luna grabbed her mirror from the nightstand and looked at her friend’s work, giving it an approving nod. She pulled her wand out from her jacket and muttered “ _Orchideous”_ ; a bouquet appeared from its tip and she began taking the flowers apart, placing some of the purple ones in between the strands of her braided hair. Ginny sat silently on her side through the whole process, admiring her as she so beautifully decorated her blonde mane.

Once she was satisfied with her work, Luna took one of the flowers and placed it behind Ginny’s ear, for which she had to place a few strands of hair behind it as well.

The intimacy of the moment was only broken by the Ravenclaw, who got up from the bed and smiled down at her. “Now we can go.”

The Burrow was buzzing with activity, despite it being six in the morning. Fleur, Molly and Charlie were making breakfast while Bill and George set the cups and plates down on the table. Arthur was tranquilly reading the newspaper, a cup of coffee already in his hands. Percy was sloppily scribbling something on a piece of parchment, which he then tied to Errol’s leg, and opened the windows briefly to let it fly away.

“Good morning, you two! Are all your belongings packed already? Have you checked in case you’re forgetting anything?” Molly asked while stirring something that looked like porridge.

“Yes, mum, you’ve asked us three times now,” Ginny replied. “Any news on Ron yet?”

Luna looked down. She knew Ginny didn’t really care about his brother’s whereabouts and she just used it as an excuse to know where his companion was.

“No. He only sent us a letter saying he, Harry and Hermione were spending their time at Andromeda’s house and he was coming home after that,” she answered nonchalantly.

Ginny’s heart started beating faster at the mention of Harry’s name, who none of them had seen since he left after the Battle.

They all sat around the table, passing each other the food and drinks. Fleur mentioned how much she liked Luna’s hair and how hers and Ginny’s flowers matched, which the redhead thanked before quickly changing the subject. On the left side of the table, Percy and Arthur were talking Ministry affairs; on the right, Charlie was telling them all about the newest dragon he’d had to take care of in Rumania, describing in vivid detail every interaction it’d had with the other dragons and even showing them pictures he carried in his wallet. George was sitting exactly in the middle, telling Ginny all about the newest additions to his joke shop. Luna, who everyone thought was always in her own word, was actually paying close attention to what George was saying and felt her heart slightly sink when she noticed how his eyes didn’t glisten anymore whenever he mentioned his shop; over the course of Christmas, she noticed he seemed almost like his normal self, but small details would give him away. More than once he would leave a seat in between him and the person sitting closest and had to move once he realised it wouldn’t be occupied anymore; Luna even noticed he still hadn’t lost the habit of looking to his left whenever he said or did something funny, only to find no one beside him.

When breakfast was over, they said their goodbyes and queued in front of the fireplace. Fleur and Bill were the first to leave (both of them chanting “Shell Cottage” before releasing the Floo powders), then George (“Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes!”) and finally, Luna and Ginny, who clearly said “The Three Broomsticks” before vanishing in front of the remaining Weasley’s eyes.

Once in Hogsmeade, they were greeted by Madame Rosmerta and then, they were off to the castle. The walk was long and the weather wasn’t ideal, but they managed to get to Hogwarts by nine in the morning and went straight to the Great Hall, where they found their four friends having breakfast.

“So what were you all talking about?” Ginny asked while she stole Marcus’ toast from his plate.

“We were just discussing where we would go to fulfil the yearly tradition,” Marcus answered, as he grabbed another piece of bread and spread butter on it.

“We were thinking the benches just outside the entrance, so we could watch the fireworks at midnight,” Anya added.

“And I was also thinking… Maybe we could spice things up with this,” Marcus spoke again and with a grin, took out a small vial that contained a transparent liquid. “I’ve brewed it over the summer. That way we can ensure the ‘truth’ part in the truth or dare is _actually_ true.”

The moment the words left Marcus’s mouth, Ginny and Luna looked at each other, as did Ari and Ky, and Anya looked at Draco at the professors’ table as an immediate response to his statement; they all knew they had secrets they didn’t want to reveal. The Gryffindor boy looked at all of them, puzzled, wondering what the hell had got into his friends’ minds.

“I don’t think it’s necessary… I trust you all, don’t you?” Ginny said, letting out a nervous laughter.

“Yeah, me too, I don’t think we’ll need it,” Anya was quick to add.

“Come on, don’t take the fun out of everything,” the Gryffindor boy said as he pouted.

It took some convincing but the friends finally agreed, although reluctant, mainly because they didn’t want Marcus to start asking questions about why they were so against using Veritaserum in their game of truth or dare.

They spent the rest of their day hanging out in the Room of Requirements, listening to some vinyls that had appeared when they first set foot in it. They laughed while they watched the snow fall from their window, but five out of the six friends were thinking about that night and how’d they manage not to reveal all their deepest secrets to the rest of them. During the time when Umbridge was headmistress they had acquired some talent in resisting the effects of the Truth Draught, but in the end they had always let out information they didn’t mean to make public; there was no chance they would magically be able to resist it, more so after some glasses of firewhiskey.

The time came when they had to go down to the Great Hall to the New Year’s feast. They enjoyed their dinners and, before they got up from their seats, Ginny passed on the Invisibility Cloak under the table to Ari. Anya and Marcus, being Head Girl and Boy, wouldn’t need an excuse if they were to be caught roaming the castle, but their friends wouldn’t meet the same fate if they were discovered. Once they left the hall, instead of going their separate ways, Ari, Ky, Ginny and Luna quickly walked towards the least illuminated wall and the Slytherin did his best to cover them all with the cloak. They tried not to make any sound as they stood there, waiting for the other students to leave. Anya and Marcus were pretending to patrol the halls and it wasn’t until McGonagall left towards her office that the castle went silent. They waited a few moments just in case and then, they were off to their spot next to one of Hogwarts’ outer walls.

They all sat down, forming a circle, and took out the bottles of firewhiskey and Muggle vodka Ky had been able to conjure, and placed them in the middle of the group. Marcus looked at his wristwatch and noticed it was already nine, meaning they still had three more hours before New Year.

“Let the games begin,” he announced with a smirk and spun one of the bottles.

***

“Gin,” Ky said, swaying slightly on her place. “Truth or dare?”

Ginny felt as if her insides were on fire; she had been determined to avoid answering “truth” so as not to reveal something she wouldn’t want the others to know, but every time she chose a dare, it came paired up with a shot of alcohol. She knew she wouldn’t be able to drink much more before throwing up, so she sighed and hoped for the best.

“Truth,” she finally answered.

An excited murmur rose from their friend group, as they thought about what to ask her.

“I’ve got one, I’ve got one,” Ari finally said. “You have to take the Veritaserum first, though.”

She did and waited for the question. “You have to tell us who you like right now.”

Ginny didn’t hesitate, for she knew she wouldn’t be lying. “Harry, sadly,” she answered.

She looked from the corner of her eye and saw Luna grab the bottle and take one long sip, before she put it down and looked at the grass. Ginny opened her mouth to say something to her, but it seemed as the Veristaserum wasn’t done with her.

“Harry and Lun—Lu…” she heard herself said and tried her best not to let those words escape her mouth.

“Come again?” Ky asked.

Ginny had to make herself cough in order to shut out the words that were so willing to escape her mouth. She conjured a glass of water and drank all of its liquid, motioning her friends to go on playing. They were too drunk to contradict her, but when she looked to her side, she noticed Luna was still staring at her with her eyes wide open.

“Ari,” Marcus continued. “Your turn.”

“Dare.”

“I dare you to swap shirts with your girlfriend for the rest of the night,” he said, looking at Ky’s tight crop top. Despite it being winter, the alcohol had made all of them take off their coats.

Ari’s eyes widened as he tried to come up with an excuse, knowing his friends would notice something was wrong the minute he took off his shirt.

“I… can’t,” he said. “I’m still a little self-conscious about my chest, y’know.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m so sorry—I didn’t even think about it, I’m sorry,” Marcus apologised, looking mortified.

“Nothing to worry about,” he said, letting out the air he had been holding. “Your turn! Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” the boy answered.

Ari’s eyes lit up with mischief and he winked at Anya before turning his head back to Marcus. “I dare you to make out with Anya.”

The Ravenclaw’s heart gave a leap as she looked at Ari, who was now holding back the big smile that threatened to take over his face.

Marcus didn’t hesitate as he turned his head to his friend. “Can I?”

Anya’s throat had suddenly tightened and she wasn’t able to produce any sound; she simply nodded. He got closer to her, not breaking eye contact. Marcus placed his hand on her cheek and drew circles with his thumb. Anya’s heart was beating at an alarming rate as she felt his other hand press on her knee so he could be more comfortable. He looked at her again, a clear interrogation in his eyes; Anya silently answered by leaning forward, brushing his nose with hers. Marcus took that as an invitation and pressed his lips onto hers, melting into her body in a passionate kiss.

Anya couldn’t even think straight as she felt his hand move up and down her thigh, while his lips hungrily met hers. His other hand travelled to her lower lip and dragged it down, making Anya give a small jump in surprise. His tongue made his way into her mouth and the kiss deepened, neither of them aware of the shocked look in their friends’ faces as they watched them.

Anya finally remembered where and who they were with and broke the kiss. She was still looking at Marcus, whose hair was messy and lips were swollen; she knew she probably looked the same.

She was about to turn around to face her friends, when she heard footsteps from behind Ari’s back and saw Draco Malfoy walking towards them at a rapid pace. She was drunk, certainly, but not enough not to notice they would be in loads of trouble were they to be caught with alcohol on top of being caught outside after curfew. She grabbed her wand, which had somehow ended up a few centimetres away from her after her kiss, and with a quick movement made all the bottles disappear. Her friends were about to complain when they heard their professor’s cold voice.

“This is unacceptable. It’s half past eleven and you’re all out here, in the middle of the night. Detention, all of you. Get up and follow me inside.”

Without a single word, they all got up, knowing they didn’t have any right to complain. Anya couldn’t help but wonder whether he had seen her kissing Marcus; she had to remind herself she didn’t care. They followed him inside, Ky and Ari at the front, followed by Marcus and Anya and finally, Ginny and Luna. They were all about to go up the stairs, but Ginny felt a hand cover her mouth and felt herself being dragged towards an empty classroom, going unnoticed as their other friends carried on walking.

Once the door had closed, she turned around and saw Luna, looking bewildered. She didn’t know why she had done that, but decided to blame it on the alcohol; they stared at each other for a minute before they both stepped forward and, without another word, melted into each other in a much awaited kiss.

The rest of the group kept on walking, four of them too drunk to notice their missing friends and the other one, too lost in his own mind to care. The professor guided all of them to their respective common rooms, leaving Ravenclaw for last. Marcus gave Anya a quick peck on the lips before going through the Fat Lady’s portrait, and if Anya had had any doubts on whether Draco had seen them, she didn’t have them anymore. She walked briskly behind him, trying to keep up. Once they’d reached the common room, Draco waited to see her go inside but not once did he look up from the ground.

Once his student had disappeared behind the door, he walked at a slower pace towards his dormitory. He sat down on his bed and grabbed his bottle of rum from under his night table. He swayed it between his hands before emptying part of the liquid in his mouth, feeling the heat numb his throat. He put his head between his hands and closed his eyes, trying to erase the images he’d seen that night that he didn’t want to remember.

A loud explosion made him look up and he saw the bright coloured fireworks explode outside his window. He looked at his watch and saw it was already New Year; the red, green, yellow and blue explosions reflected in his glossy eyes as he kept looking outside his window.

Draco Malfoy had always known it, but it wasn’t until then that he realised how truly lonely he was.


	20. Hogsmeade

“Cheer up, Anya, we’re going to Hogsmeade!” Ari said, in what felt like the hundredth attempt to make her smile.

Anya had been acting strange ever since New Year. The following day, when they went down for breakfast, Marcus approached her with caution, unsure of how to behave after what had happened the previous night. He had given her a peck on the lips as a way of bidding her goodbye, but he could blame the alcohol for his shameless behaviour. Now that he was completely sober and so were the rest of them, he tried to think of a way to greet the brown-haired Ravenclaw that would be suitable for their situation, even though he didn’t even know where they stood. He had reached the table where his friends were sitting still uncertain of how to greet her, and it seemed as Anya was struggling with the same thing, for they ended up bumping their foreheads when they both leant the same way to give each other a kiss on the cheek. They had turned red and Marcus had sat down as his friends tried not to snigger in front of them. But Anya’s mind was somewhere else, her thoughts kept being filled with a certain blonde-haired, grey-eyed professor that was sitting on the furthest end of the table, his eyes fixed on his scrambled eggs. She had been so distracted she hadn’t noticed how Luna’s left and Ginny’s right hand were both under the table, suspiciously close, and they were both wearing huge grins on their faces.

“Yes, and we can buy that new flavoured chocolate they have at Honeydukes!” Luna added, squeezing her hand.

That seemed to work and Anya finally grabbed the hand Ari was offering her and got up from the armchair in her common room. Chocolate was the way to her heart and her friends knew it too well.

They left the castle and started walking, Ky and Ari chatting with Anya (much to her relief, Marcus had made plans with his Gryffindor friends and wouldn’t be joining them, saving both of them from another awkward encounter) and Ginny and Luna a few steps behind them. They had decided not to tell their other friends about their New Year’s _rendezvous_ , but couldn’t seem to be apart from each other much the past few days. They shared quick glances at meals, brushed their hands against each other when no one was looking and even escaped a few times to empty bathrooms where nobody could see them.

Anya’s foul mood seemed to lighten up when they reached Honeydukes and went inside, eager to buy as many sweets as they could carry inside their pockets. They spent the next hour and a half going in and out of the different shops that were sprawled across the main street of Hogsmeade, the lumps in their robes growing bigger and their coin purses thinning considerably. They ended up, upon Anya’s request, in Tomes and Scrolls, where she bought herself a stack of books as a late birthday present. Bags in hands and stomachs roaring, they walked towards The Three Broomsticks for a hot butterbeer. They sat down on their favourite table, the one nearest to the fire, and as usual flipped a coin to decide who would get up and order their drinks. Luna lost and was about to get up when they heard someone call their names from behind.

“It’s certainly been a while, huh?”

Anya turned around and saw the last person she would’ve expected to meet that day. In front of her eyes, the same unruly jet black hair and slightly crooked glasses, stood Harry Potter gripping a pram. Ginny, who had just unwrapped a chocolate frog she had bought from Honeydukes, choked on it and had to be patted on the back several times by Ari. Luna quickly reclaimed her seat next to Ginny and unconsciously moved her chair a few centimetres closer.

“Harry! Hello!” Anya said, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had settled in the friend group upon his arrival. “Where have you been? What are you doing here?”

“Well, I’ve been away with Ron and Hermione until a few days ago that we returned to the country,” he spoke. “And just thought I’d surprise Gin—I mean, all of you. Aberforth told me you had a scheduled visit today.”

Although it was Anya who had talked to him, he answered without taking his eyes off the red-headed Gryffindor, who was staring at him back in awe. The Ravenclaw immediately looked at Luna, who was taking turns in looking at Ginny and back at the floor.

“So,” he continued, oblivious to the chaos he had created. “Were you about to fetch some butterbeer, Luna? Bring them over, they’re on me.”

Luna hesitated but finally got up and Harry smiled brightly at her before bringing her in for a hug. Any other time, Luna would have reciprocated it with as much warmth; that day, she thought, his presence was the most inconvenient. She hugged him back anyway and, with a soft smile, turned her back and walked towards Madame Rosmerta. Ginny’s eyes were closely following her every move and she didn’t even notice when Harry occupied the chair Luna had been previously seated on.

“I also came here because of him,” Harry muttered and made Ginny turn around.

He finally lifted the canopy and revealed a blue-haired baby, who couldn’t be older than two and was fast asleep holding a miniature wolf. Ginny seemed to forget everything else on her mind as she leant over the toddler. He suddenly opened his light brown eyes, stretched his short arms and looked directly at the Weasley, a drowsy smile forming on his lips.

Ginny looked back at Harry, giving him a warm smile. He smiled back, mesmerized.

“First thing I did was visit Andromeda,” he said. “She lets me take him for walks and I thought you’d probably want to see him, since we’re both his godparents.”

Ginny took Teddy Lupin from where he had been resting and held him to her chest. His curious eyes scanned around the table and then, went back to his godmother. His scrutinising eyes took her in and, after a few seconds of contemplation, he closed them in concentration and they all watched as his previously blue locks changed into a bright shade of red, matching Ginny’s.

They all spent the following hour chatting, drooling over the little boy whose giggles filled the place and drinking butterbeer. Luna seemed unlike her usual, bubbly self as she discreetly stared at Harry and Ginny, who had got over the initial shock of seeing him and was now smiling brightly at him. The blonde girl gloomily noticed the way her friend was looking at the black haired boy; she recognised the spark inside her eyes and the slight blush on her cheeks and, with a heavy heart, realised she was looking at Harry the same way she looked at her.

Anya was affectionately looking at Ari and Ky, who were entertaining the baby the Slytherin was holding by pretending they sneezed too hard and hit their heads against the wooden table; Teddy’s laugh seemed to trigger his metamorphomagus abilities and his eyes and hair kept changing colours. Ari was holding him in the air when suddenly his face contorted and he almost dropped the baby; Anya’s reflexes were fast enough and she leaped over the table and grabbed the Lupin baby before he could get hurt. He began crying and Anya looked at Ari, whose eyes were open wide and without a word, he quickly got up and ran to the loo. He locked the door and leant against it, muffling his screams against his hand. He quickly unbuttoned his shirt and writhed in agony as he felt his skin burn behind his fingers. His heart was pounding and the skin around it was blacker than he’d ever seen it, quickly spreading towards the rest of his chest. His silent cries were low enough that nobody suspected there could be anything wrong other than a bathroom emergency.

Both Harry and Ginny offered Anya to take Teddy and try to pacify him, but she got up and started pacing around. She had managed to calm him down and Teddy was hugging her neck and falling asleep when a voice startled her from behind.

“Hey, Anya?”

She promptly turned around and saw Draco standing behind her, awkwardly fiddling with his rings. Her heart gave a leap, remembering when he had last seen him at the library and he had been reading about werewolves; she still hadn’t decided what to think of that. She couldn’t help but notice the tip of his red nose that matched the hue on his cheeks and the contrast between his white, marble-like skin and the black of his scarf. 

“Good afternoon, professor,” she replied, giving him a polite nod.

“Are you having a pleasant time?” he inquired.

“Yes, definitely. We were just drinking some butterbeer and then we’re heading back to the castle,” she replied.

They fell silent as Anya kept swaying her body to help Teddy fall asleep; Draco didn’t seem to have noticed she was holding a baby in her arms.

“So,” he spoke after clearing his throat. “I just wanted to—see how you were doing.”

Anya didn’t know what she had been expecting him to say, but it definitely wasn’t that. She saw him look down at his hands, scratch the back of his neck and fix the collar of his shirt, all in the span of a minute. She’d never seen him so nervous before.

“I guess I’m… doing fine,” she replied, feeling her heart soften. “I’m… sorry about what happened during New Year’s Eve. It was stupid of us.”

She spoke before she could think about what she was saying, but she realised she really meant it. She had been thinking about it ever since it happened and hadn’t been able to admit it to herself, but it felt good to finally say it out loud.

“Oh…” he replied, taken aback by her words. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve done worse as a student.”

Anya smiled her first genuine smile since they stopped talking. She knew she still hadn’t forgiven him (or herself, for that matter, for having been stupid enough to get too involved), but it felt nice to be talking again.

“So I’ve heard,” she replied, deciding she would tease him a little.

His face went pale. “What _have_ you heard, exactly?”

“Well, you know…” she replied, casually. “Everything, really.”

“Oh Merlin, just so you know, whatever you’ve heard happened in the broom cupboard on the fourth floor…”

“Draco!” Anya stopped him, alarmed. “I was just teasing; I don’t really know anything about it. Although now I’ve got a pretty clear image.”

He blushed and covered his face with his hands. “Well, if this isn’t absolutely mortifying.”

Anya giggled softly, as she was still absentmindedly stroking Teddy’s back, and Draco seemed to finally acknowledge the presence of the toddler.

“Whose baby did you steal?” he asked with a small grin, trying to change the subject.

“Ha. You’re hilarious, nearly broke my ribs from laughing,” she replied, smiling back. “He’s Ginny’s godson, just spending the day with us.”

“I certainly see the resemblance now that you mention it,” he said, looking at Teddy’s red hair which he hadn’t changed back to his usual blue colour.

“Yeah, he doesn’t always look like this though.”

“What do you m—” he was about to ask, but was interrupted by a low giggle.

Teddy Lupin started moving in Anya’s arms, and she motioned her professor to stay quiet so he could go back to sleep; he seemed to had regained his energy after his nap, for he turned his head and opened his eyes in Draco’s direction. Anya saw her blonde companion tense up and take an involuntary step back. Anya was about to tease him on how he couldn’t _possibly_ be afraid of an infant, but her words got stuck in her throat. Teddy Lupin smiled an almost toothless smile at him and changed his hair colour to the same shade of Draco’s for a few seconds, before turning it a sandy shade of brown, similar to his father’s.

“Have you ever met Teddy?” Anya asked in awe. “He only ever copies someone else’s features when he likes the person, I’ve never seen him do it for a stranger.”

“I—No, I definitely haven’t, maybe he’s confused me with someone else,” Draco replied, flustered. “I’ve got to go now, but it’s been a nice chat. Hope to see you around the castle sometime.”

He grabbed his coat from a nearby table and walked towards the door, not looking back even once. Before he left The Three Broomsticks, Teddy lifted his arms towards him, as if calling him back. Anya found that behaviour quite bizarre, seeing as he didn’t know Draco. As he did so, his jumper uncovered briefly his wrists, and Anya could see the only piece of jewellery he was wearing for the first time.

It was an odd-looking bracelet for a baby. It was black and had little diamonds splattered all around it (Anya had been brought up surrounded by luxury and was able to tell those were real diamonds), resembling a night sky. They seemed to be forming a pattern, but what Anya had in wits, she lacked in good memory and so she couldn’t recognise it. It looked familiar enough for her to stare at it for a bit, wondering where she’d seen it before.

She resolved it’d be better to ask Harry about it, to ease her mind. She walked back to the table and saw Ari was back and looked completely normal, as if he hadn’t almost dropped a baby to the ground that same day.

“Hey, Harry?” she asked, trying to get him to look at her.

“Hm?” he asked, turning around.

“Was this bracelet a gift from Andromeda? It looks familiar but too expensive not to be a family heirloom,” she wondered, pointing at it.

“Oh, no it wasn’t. I believe Remus’s brother gifted it to Teddy last Christmas,” he replied.

“I didn’t know Remus had a brother,” Ginny intervened with a slight frown.

“Neither did I, but Andromeda told me he came back here after he found out his brother had died and wanted to be in his nephew’s life,” Harry shrugged.

Anya decided not to give it much thought; it sounded odd, but she knew Remus had been a reserved man and it was more than likely he had a brother he’d never told anyone about. She handed Teddy over to Harry and sat back down.

“So… Should we get going? It’s getting dark already,” Luna suggested, looking at Ginny.

“Yeah… You lot get going, I’ll catch up with you later,” Ginny said, slightly blushing.

“But it’ll be the dead of night in just under an hour, you can’t possibly think we’ll leave you alone…” Luna fired back.

“Don’t worry, Lu, I’ll make sure she gets to Hogwarts safely. McGonagall will understand,” Harry replied, cluelessly beaming at her.

“Come on, Loony, grab your coat,” Anya interceded, covering her friend from Harry and Ginny’s view.

Luna smiled gratefully at her and put on her coat, slightly brushing under her left eye with the sleeve. “Guess we’ll see you later, then. Take care, Harry.”

They walked out, leaving the two godparents and their godson behind. Their usual, cheerful walk back was replaced by a stroll filled with silence none of them were willing to break; Ky was looking worriedly at Ari, trying to get him to tell her what had happened, while he just looked down at his shoes and walked without glancing at her. Luna was hugging her own torso and trying hard not to let tears fall down her eyes, as she slowly realised what Harry would forever mean to the girl she loved. And Anya, although she wouldn’t admit to it, was thinking of a certain blonde professor who was starting to make his way back to her heart.


	21. A Not-So-Unpleasant-Detention

Nothing. There was nothing.

Anya had managed to escape her friends claiming she needed to assist Flitwick with the first years and nobody had suspected a thing; professors frequently asked Anya for help, not only because she was Head Girl but also because she’d always had patience with children and oftentimes they listened to her more than they did to their teachers. She was glad her friends hadn’t asked questions because she needed to be alone for a few hours. As soon as she had lost sight of them, she had turned on her heels and gone straight to the library. She decided she would keep her investigation to herself; she was already keeping secrets from her friends, she thought, what would be the harm in another one?

She walked towards the “Ancient Magic” section, which was the best starting point she could think of. She spent a few minutes browsing the shelves and trying to find titles that fitted the kind of information she was after; she doubted she’d find a book christened “The Elder Wand for Dummies”, but any book on the Deathly Hollows would do.

Expectedly, she didn’t find any book specifically on the Deathly Hollows except “The Tales of Beedle the Bard” and she was sure it didn’t say anything on the magic inside the Elder Wand. She decided she’d start with a book on wands (“The Art of Wandmaking”, by Garrick Ollivander) and a second one on ancient magic in general. She sat down by one of the tables nearest to the windows, so that the balminess from the sun could bring some warmth to her face.

An hour had gone by since she had sat down and she wasn’t any closer to finding out why hadn’t the Elder Wand lost all its power once Harry had snapped it in half. She sighed and leant back in her chair, rubbing her eyes. She reviewed her options inside her head: she obviously couldn’t tell her friends just yet, not until she had sorted out what exactly was going on. Hearing voices no one else heard wasn’t normal even in the wizarding world, as she knew Harry had learnt back in his second year. She couldn’t tell McGonagall, either, because she’d probably ask for the wand so she could inspect it herself, but Anya didn’t want to give it away just yet; she needed to know why it had presented itself to her, her thirst for knowledge was unquenched and that wasn’t a feeling she was familiar nor indifferent to. Of course she wouldn’t tell Draco, not knowing yet if he was one to be trusted. She dismissed the idea as soon as it popped in her head, not knowing why she had thought of him in the first place.

She resolved her last option, if she didn’t find any information on future library visits, would be to resort to the restricted section, but she knew she’d need a professor’s note to be able to go in there. She didn’t think it’d be too hard for her to get one, since she was a Head Girl and some of her professor’s favourite student, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to risk being asked question she couldn’t answer without giving away too much information.

She grabbed the only book she had left, knowing she’d have to leave soon or her friends would begin to suspect she was up to something. She scanned through the index and her heart gave a leap when she read chapter ninety-two’s title. She quickly opened the book in the correct place and started reading, until she found a paragraph that caught her attention:

_“… The Elder Wand is best known for being the most powerful weapon against wizards and witches’ greed. Up to the date, there is no recollection of any owner of this ancient wand outliving its power; it is a known fact the only way of destroying once and for all the powerful magic that resides within it consists of the hindmost proprietor dying a natural death. There is, however, one witch who was believed to have succeeded in destroying the Elder Wand: Diana Godelot, who owned the wand sometime around 1345 and 1350 and inherited it by accidentally murdering the previous owner with a misplaced curse. The moment the wand showed itself before her, she was frightful for her and her daughter’s life and tried destroying it by snapping it in half and throwing it into a blazing fire. She witnessed the moment the fire died down and all there was left were scattered ashes; however, it was then found unscathed by a young Brazilian wizard and the ‘bloody trail’ continued on up to our days. Not much is known about the powerful magic that binds this intriguing artefact, hence the various myths that surround it; what we have learnt is that it can’t be destroyed as effortlessly as normal wands and an effective method to rid the world of its powers is yet to be unveiled.”_

_“Brilliant,”_ Anya thought to herself. “ _Just what I needed: an indestructible fucking wand.”_

Anya felt defeated as she got up to return the books to their shelves; she turned around to leave and almost crashed into Marcus’s chest, who seemed to have been trying to poke her shoulder without scaring her and failing miserably.

“I’m so sorry Anya, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, taking a step back.

“Oh, that’s okay Marcus,” she replied, gulping. “How are you?”

“I’m good, thanks for asking!” he answered, with an excess of enthusiasm. “It seems we haven’t seen each other in ages.”

Anya knew it to be true: she had been purposely avoiding him as much as she could because she dreaded the conversation she was sure they were about to have.

“Yes, I know and I’m sorry,” she said in a rapture of sincerity. “I just didn’t want any of us to feel awkward about what happened during our New Year celebration, that’s all.”

“That’s what I wanted to discuss with you, actually,” he sighed. “Let me be brutally honest: I’ve been looking forward to that moment for a very long time. There’s not a single ounce of regret in my body and I’m sorry if there is in yours.”

“No, I don’t regret it either.”

“Good,” Marcus replied. “That being said, I know we don’t feel the same way and it’s fine. I’ve noticed that every time I try to make a move, you don’t shut me out but you never initiate it either. I just wanted you to know that it won’t change anything unless you want it to.”

Anya was speechless and, once again, overwhelmed by the boy’s maturity and care for her. “I—I really like you, Marcus. But right now I’m not prepared to be in a relationship. But please believe me when I say that I’ve fancied you for quite a while now.”

Marcus smiled at her and dared to take a step forward, placing one of his hands on the wooden shelf, close to her hip. “We can be anything you want us to be.”

Anya’s cheeks glowed red and, for the first time in her life, she was thankful for Madame Pince, whose high heeled shoes rattling against the marble floor gave them enough time to take a few steps back before she caught them.

“Rodríguez, Bagman” she announced as a way of acknowledging them. “Flitwick’s here to take you to detention.”

Anya was glad she could occupy her hands with something else and almost dropped a pile of books knowing the Gryffindor’s deep, green eyes were fixed on the back of her neck. She knew she’d had to face that conversation sometime, but was glad that it wouldn’t be right at that moment.

“I was extremely astounded when I found out you two got detention,” Flitwick said, as he guided them towards their detentions. “You being Head Boy and Girl.”

“We know, professor,” Anya replied, blushing. “It won’t happen again.”

The tiny professor turned his head while he kept walking. “It’s your seventh year. It’s more than likely to happen again, Rodríguez.”

They walked in a pleasant silence, none of them sure where they’d be sent to. Flitwick suddenly stopped and gave them directions: “Bagman, down to the dungeons you go. Rodríguez, all the way up to the Astronomy Tower.”

They nodded each other goodbye and parted ways, Anya mentally preparing herself for an afternoon with Professor Sinistra; they liked each other quite a lot, but she could sometimes get too immersed in her subject. Once she reached the top, she held onto the railing and took a few minutes to take in the beautiful scenery that surrounded the castle. She loved breathing in the pure air, so unlike London’s, and letting the sun penetrate her skin.

She heard the sound of steps coming up the stairs and stood next to the telescopes, awaiting her professor’s arrival. Much to her surprise, it was Draco Malfoy who emerged from around the corner; he too seemed startled at the sight of her.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was you who was here. I was just told I had to supervise detention in the Astronomy Tower, I’ll ask McGonagall to reassign me if you don’t want me to be here…”

“No!” Anya answered, a little louder and more abruptly than she had planned. “I mean, I don’t mind. Just tell me what to do and I’ll start working.”

“You’ll have to clean all the lenses in the telescopes,” he said, with a faint smile. “No magic, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry, I left my wand in my room,” she replied and headed towards the nearest telescope.

She worked in a peaceful silence for the first fifteen minutes. She spied from the corner of her eye to see what her professor was doing, but he seemed distracted as he looked out the windows. Anya turned around to keep working, but her hip hit the nearest table and with a loud thud, the scale replica of the galaxy fell to the ground, its pieces scattering all around the room.

“Fuck’s sake,” she muttered under her breath and kneeled to grab the pieces.

She heard Draco’s footsteps approaching her. “Get up, I’ll fix this.”

With a soundless movement of his wand, all the pieces flew across the tower and rearranged themselves the way they had been before Anya knocked them to the ground.

“Thank you… Draco,” she whispered as she looked at him.

But he wasn’t looking back at her; he was frowning as he stared at the work he had just done.

“This isn’t right,” he simply muttered.

Anya just leant against the wall while he moved the pieces around, furrowing his eyebrows in concentration. A few minutes later, he seemed content with his work and put away his wand; Anya looked at the final result and thought it looked exactly the same as it had before he began moving the pieces around, but decided he seemed to know more about it than she did.

“Do you think this looks right? I think it does,” he asked, still staring at the glimmering galaxy.

“If I ought to be completely honest,” Anya replied, “I remember very little about Astronomy, but you seem to know more than I do. I didn’t know you were interested in this subject.”

“Always been,” he answered, finally looking at her. “It was my favourite subject, as a matter of fact. But my parents seemed to believe it was a waste of time and it wouldn’t help me further my career path so I dropped it as soon as I was able to. I regret it to this day.”

“I dropped it too, after my OWLs,” Anya replied.

“And you expect me to believe you didn’t get the required _Acceptable_ to be on Advanced Astronomy?”

“Oh, no, I got an _Exceeds Expectations_. It’s just that I didn’t really like it.”

“Fair enough,” Draco replied and felt silent again.

Anya was about to turn around and go back to her telescopes when his voice stopped her once again: “I’m really sorry, Anya.”

“What for?” she asked.

“For what happened the day you resigned from being my assistant,” he replied. “I tried apologising to Creevey but then I remembered you Obliviated her and I looked stupid trying to apologise for something she didn’t remember me doing.”

That made Anya smile, and he seemed to gain courage from her reaction.

“It was just out of habit, you know. I really did use to believe in the ‘blood-supremacy’ speech for a long time. After the Battle, I’m not sure I see the importance in it anymore. But regardless, it was a harsh and thoughtless thing to say and I’m really ashamed I said it, specially to a student.” He paused for a little and looked down, avoiding her face. “And I’m really sorry if I hurt or disappointed you, it was the last thing I wanted to do.”

Anya waited until his eyes met hers again and saw real concern in them.

“It did hurt me, you know. But it was the fact that I thought you had changed because I actually had a good time being your assistant,” Anya confessed. “Those are harsh words to say. Lives were lost due to those extreme beliefs. That’s what disappointed me the most.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I’ve been reading, trying to understand more about everything I’ve always thought I believed in,” he added, still looking anywhere but Anya’s eyes. “I don’t know what to believe in anymore.”

Anya shrugged and smiled at him when he raised his head again. “Maybe you have changed after all.”

He smiled back and looked pleased with himself. Anya wouldn’t show it, but she was happy with the outcome of her detention too.

“So,” she said, “Which constellations am I looking at?”

“There are quite a few,” Draco said, standing right behind her as he extended his arm over her shoulder and pointed at the different stars as he spoke.

Anya’s heart was beating fast as she felt his breath on her neck and his perfume near her nose. He pointed at every constellation, giving a few details about their mythology and position in the sky. Anya had to repress her cheeks from blushing as she thought just how attractive she’d always found when people talked about a subject they knew everything about.

“And that one,” he finally added. “That’s my favourite constellation. “It’s the Draco constellation, of couse. It’s one of the biggest ones, has fourteen main stars which include _Etamin, Rastaban_ and _Thuban_ , the three brightest, and can be seen all year round from northern latitudes.”

As he named the three stars, he got even closer to Anya’s body from behind as he stretched his arm even further to signal them. She had to hold her breath, but he didn’t seem to have noticed how close he had got.

Anya thanked her own lucky stars when she heard the chiming of the bells, which signalled another hour had gone by and her detention was over. The sound startled Draco, who took a few steps back and seemed to have finally realised how invested in his explanation he had been. He cleared his throat and hid his hands in his pockets.

“I’m sorry, I got a bit carried away,” he said, ashamed.

“Don’t be, I found it really interesting,” Anya replied, truthfully.

“So… You’re free to go now.”

“Yes, I’ll leave in a minute. I have one telescope left to clean, but you can go, I’ll go back to my common room in a bit.”

Draco smiled and turned on his heels to leave. Before he went down the stairs, he spoke with his back turned to her: “I’ve already been speaking to some Ministry officials about you and I believe all of them would be more than delighted to have you work for them once you leave Hogwarts. But just so you know, if you ever feel like helping me out again, my doors will always be open.”

And he left, without waiting for a response. Anya stood there, conflicted. She turned back around to the constellations and dragged her fingers along them, going over the places his fingers had been just moments before. She lingered them over the Draco constellation more than she should have and studied it. There was something about it that seemed too familiar.

Her eyes opened up in surprise when she realised where she had seen it before. She had noticed it a long time ago, during one of her afternoons spent reading through essays with Draco. She noticed it the second time, on the bracelet around Teddy Lupin’s wrist.

It was unmistakeable; the bracelet she had seen her professor holding had diamonds shaped in the form of the Draco constellation and Teddy’s too. It was the same bracelet.

But why had Draco given it to the Lupin boy, Anya had no idea.


	22. Unssuccesful Endeavours

Anya knew, as soon as she noticed that there was only one thing in her mind ever since her detention in the Astronomy Tower, that she had to confront Draco Malfoy and unveil his relationship with Teddy Lupin. At that point it wasn’t even just out of mere curiosity; she remembered she had a task which was assigned to her and she wasn’t about to blow the opportunity to prove she was willing to get back on track after her professor had apologised. She couldn’t think of a better place to start than figuring out how was the Malfoy heir related to a kid whose parents his own kind had brutally murdered.

Recalling the last time she had tried to find him, she was cautious enough to borrow the Marauder’s Map and track her professor down before wandering aimlessly through the gigantic castle. As she had grown accustomed to do ever since she had found the Elder Wand, she double checked the spell she had cast on her bedside table’s drawer worked and couldn’t be countered by a simple opening incantation. As she rushed out of her common room and headed towards the Entrance Hall, where she had spotted her blonde-haired professor, she mentally scolded herself for somehow always being in the middle of more secrets than she could possibly keep and wished she could just confide in someone to get rid of all the things that weighed down on her shoulders.

She quickly rushed down the stairs, careful not to bump into anyone she might be delayed by; she kept glancing at the map and saw Draco moving swiftly across the grounds, once again, and started trotting in an attempt to find him before he disappeared as he had so many times before. She reached the entrance and frantically looked to her sides, but saw nothing other than the vivid green shade that expanded towards the horizon. She ran to her left, after a quick look at the map, and wished she had engaged in more physical activity throughout her childhood as she began panting heavily and her legs started trembling; nonetheless, she ran.

She saw the back of his unusually white shirt just before he went into the fourth greenhouse. She shouted at him and he stopped in his tracks, his face streaked with panic as he turned around.

“What are you doing here? It’s almost curfew, go back to your common room,” he said with an authoritarian voice.

“I need to know why you gave Teddy Lupin your bracelet,” Anya said, getting straight to the point.

Anya wouldn’t have thought a face so pale could go even paler, but she was proven wrong. Draco opened and closed his mouth a few times, unable to respond to her simple question. He looked down at his watch and then back again at her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You must be mistaken,” he answered, unconvincingly.

“I know it’s the same bracelet you’d told me your mother had gifted you. I realised as soon as you showed me the Draco constellation,” Anya said firmly.

Draco’s slender fingers untidied his neatly combed hair as he sighed in frustration; he knew of the mythical stubbornness the Ravenclaws were famous for and he didn’t have time to explain himself. He had been unsure whether he wanted to share that part of his life with anyone else, but in a leap of faith, he closed his eyes and gave in.

“Fuck’s sake. Follow me, I’m already late. And be quiet.”

And with that, he went into the greenhouse. Anya diligently followed, her heart thumping as she realised she would finally get some answers from her otherwise overly cryptic professor. She took him in from behind: he was wearing a very similar garments to the ones she had seen him wear when he had found her maundering the grounds at midnight. He was wearing a white shirt, the three top buttons undone, grey formal pants and neatly polished black shoes. With a flick of his wand, he moved a pile of clay pots over and uncovered a trap door Anya had never noticed before. He stood on top of it and pointed at the top right corner, muttered _Aberto_ and with a muffled _click,_ a handle made out of vines materialised in front of their eyes. Draco kneeled, pushed open the door and disappeared through it, just as if he had done it many times before; Anya realised he probably had. She neared the entrance and saw him standing at the bottom, his hand extended for her to grab and go down the steep stairs. She accepted it, descended and found herself in a humid and dark corridor. The trapdoor above her closed and Draco lit up his wand, illuminating the path they were to follow. He began walking and Anya had no choice but to follow him.

They had been walking for five minutes when she saw ahead of them the passageway came to an abrupt end.

“From what I’ve gathered, these were supposed to be underground paths that connected strategic points during the First Wizarding War,” Draco explained before Anya got the chance to ask. “They never finished them.”

“Why are we here, then? I don’t think there’s a way out,” Anya inquired.

A wave of fearful thoughts flooded her head: had he taken her there to erase her memory and make her forget she knew anything? Was he going to leave her there?

“Because we’ve walked enough to be off Hogwarts grounds,” he simply replied, offering her his arm. “I’m going to Apparate us, if you’d please grab my arm.”

She immediately did, hoping he hadn’t realised she had been preparing for an impromptu attack just seconds before, in case he was planning on attacking her first.

She closed her eyes tightly and when she opened them back again, she found herself in an unknown forest and noticed the sun wasn’t shining anymore; instead, the sky was covered in grey rain clouds and the chirping of the birds told her it would soon start pouring.

She turned around to ask Draco where they were, but she saw him take a flask from his pocket, and remembered she had seen him holding the same one when she first followed him through the castle grounds. He emptied half its contents in his mouth and his face started contorting in bizarre facial expressions. Anya saw him change before her eyes and, in the place where Draco Malfoy had been standing seconds ago, a man she’d never seen before took his place. He had sandy brown hair, which curled near its tips, wide light-brown eyes and his skin was at least two shades darker than her professor’s. Although his mouth still bore the shadow of the stiffness in Draco’s expressions, it was softer on the edges and its muscles quickly relaxed, giving his face a peaceful expression unlike any Anya had seen on the blonde-haired man. He had also grown a few centimetres, which would explain the fact that the pants Draco had chosen to wear were a few sizes too big.

“Polyjuice potion,” Anya said. “Why? Who is the man you took the hair from?”

“A villager in Hogsmeade,” Draco said, although in a higher pitch. “He trims his hair every month and I pay him to give me what he cuts off.”

“I will need you to elaborate on everything you’ve just told me,” Anya said, unable to think of a good enough reason to pay a stranger for his fallen hair strands.

“I don’t want to waste too much time, the potion’s effects last only for an hour,” he replied in a hurried tone. “All you need to know for now is that nearly once every month I Apparate here. Over there’s Andromeda Tonk’s house.”

And he set off, as if he hadn’t just dropped an active bomb on Anya’s lap. She had to trot beside him to keep up with his long strides and she wished she could figure out just exactly what was going on.

He reached the door, cleared his throat and knocked on the wooden door using the bronze knocker in front of him. Someone opened it and all Anya could see was a brown, curly mane that bounced with every step Andromeda took.

“Oh, Lyall!” she greeted Draco. “We weren’t expecting you today! Come inside, come inside.”

Draco thanked her as she hugged him tightly; Anya noticed he was doing his best to keep it short and still remaining polite.

“And you brought a guest!” she added as she spotted the Ravenclaw. “Anya, isn’t it? I reckon we’ve met a couple of times.”

“It’s lovely to see you again, Andromeda,” she added as she let herself be embraced by the older woman’s warm arms.

“I didn’t know you two knew each other,” she said, as she made her way towards the kitchen and pointed her wand at the kettle on the stove.

“We didn’t really,” Draco replied. “We just met in Hogsmeade today, got to talk and realised we both knew this little gentleman over here.”

Anya turned around and noticed he was no longer alone; Draco was sitting on an armchair, holding none other than Teddy Lupin, who looked extremely pleased in his arms. The now sandy-haired professor was holding him with his back to his chest and the boy’s hands were wrapped around both his index fingers. Draco was casually bouncing his legs up and down in a soft manner, making the toddler giggle.

Anya sat down beside them, enthralled by the scene she’d never thought she’d be witnessing.

“Lyall? Isn’t that…”

“Remus Lupin’s father’s name, yes” Draco interrupted her, still playing with the boy on his lap. “I introduced myself as Lyall Lupin II, brother to Remus Lupin.”

“Why? What are you getting out of this?” Anya asked without giving her words a second thought.

Draco pondered for a while, before turning his face back to her: “I don’t know. I never planned for this to happen. It just did.”

Anya was about to ask how had he even met them but a shade of recognition appeared on her face.

“He’s your family.”

“Second nephew,” he replied. “Never really got along with his mother because Andromeda here was disowned long before I was born.”

“Then how…?”

“My mother and I were invited by Andromeda to Lupin’s and Tonks’s wake. She was reluctant, I could tell, but she then told me… I mean, Lyall, that she invited us because she had seen what his family had been capable of doing and how she didn’t want me to turn out the same way. My father, my aunt and uncle, my grandparents… They were the same as the people who killed her daughter. And she wanted me to see I had other options.

“I had to come alone, my father wasn’t talking to me because of… something I did after the war. I tried to go unnoticed and decided to sneak to the backyard where I saw Teddy and I stayed there, just watching him. And I realised he didn’t have much of a family and I couldn’t help but think it was partly my fault; he’d grow up without much of a family and I felt guilty for it.”

He spoke with his eyes fixed on the nearby window, his eyes reflecting the colours from the forest beyond the glass. He seemed to be in a trance, Anya had never heard him talk so much about his own life before. She had so many questions to ask him, such as what is it he had done after the war or why didn’t he want anyone to know it was him. But just then, Andromeda appeared in the sitting room, pointing his wand at a silver tray that was hovering towards them. They had to stop talking and proceeded to enjoy tea and biscuits, cozied up beside the fire while the harsh wind blew outside.

They stayed longer than Anya had anticipated and Draco had to drink the other half of the Polyjuice potion. Andromeda had insisted they should stay over for dinner, but Draco quickly dismissed it by telling her he had to accompany Anya back to the castle before curfew. They had to promise both Teddy and Andromeda they’d be back soon and had to bribe the boy with some chocolate so he would stop crying and let them go.

Anya and Draco walked back towards the forest and this time, they both Apparated on their own back to the underground corridor below the greenhouse. Neither of them talked until they reached the trapdoor and Anya couldn’t hold her thoughts any longer.

“I need to know more,” she said, breaking the silence. “I won’t pretend I understand the nature of everything you do and this certainly caught me by surprise, but this isn’t the only odd behaviour I’ve noticed from your end.”

“Yeah, well, get used to it,” Draco replied, rolling his eyes.

Anya decided to ignore his sarcastic remark. “I saw you researching werewolves a few weeks ago, but we had already researched them for one of your classes; if it wasn’t for class, my best guess is it was for your personal use. Are you…?”

“A highly educated wizard who yearns to quench his thirst for knowledge? Most definitely,” he replied, avoiding her implication.

“Piss off,” Anya added, unable to contain herself. “It’s not like a lightning bolt will strike you if you tell the truth, y’know.”

“Why is it that you need to know _everything?_ Being blissfully ignorant won’t kill you, for once.”

“I want to understand you,” she replied, and regretted it the second she did.

Draco looked at her, as if seeing her for the first time. Anya noticed he was no longer shielding his body with his crossed arms and he had changed out of his defensive stance. His shoulders had relaxed and he seemed to be internally struggling.

“One of the first times I visited Teddy and Andromeda, she mentioned she had noticed he’d picked up some traits that were common in wolves,” he finally spoke, hesitantly. “There have been known cases in which a parent passes on the werewolf gene to their offspring. So I started researching and learnt that it is most likely Teddy will have some traits but not be able to transform during full moons, since he should’ve shapeshifted before he turned one.

“I also read he may suffer from various pains during a full moon, and the idea he could turn still lingered in my mind. So I acquired some Wolfsbane Potion and found a way to drench a bracelet I had and didn’t really use with it and decided to gift it to Teddy the past Christmas.”

Anya’s heart was racing and she felt a newfound sense of warmth towards her professor. She didn’t know how to react and tentatively took a step forward.

“I know Teddy can’t speak, but if he could, he’d be extremely thankful for all you’ve done for him,” she said, trying to comfort him.

“He’s never going to know,” Draco sentenced. “I won’t let him know I’m the reason why he’ll grow up without his parents.”

“That’s not true, Draco. You aren’t responsible for any other’s mistakes but your own. And specially _I_ should know you’ve had your fair share of those,” Anya replied as she took another step forward. “And if I’m able to have civil conversations with you despite what happened between us during the war, I’m sure he’ll be able to understand.”

Anya took one last step forward and looked at his towering figure. She hesitantly raised her arm and placed her hand on his shoulder, squeezing tightly. “There’s plenty of things to be sorry for; this isn’t one of them.”

Draco stayed in place for a moment, letting her comfort him. But as abruptly as it had started, the moment ended when he stepped away and brushed her hand off of his body.

“Don’t pretend to know me just because we’ve talked a few times,” his cold voice sneered, his eyes not meeting hers. “We’re not friends.”

And without another word, he climbed the stairs, leaving her alone in the sultry corridor.

“ _Fine, if that’s how’s it going to be from now on,”_ Anya thought to herself. She brushed the dirt off her sweater, climbed up the stairs and started walking towards McGonagall’s office to inform her of her professor’s most recent movements.


	23. The Attack

“Who are you and what have you done to the Anya Rodríguez I used to know?” Ginny asked, standing beside the Ravenclaw’s bed.

“Maybe I’m a new Anya. Maybe I don’t want to set the example for anybody, maybe I just feel like shaving my head off and chain-smoking in some foul bar at midnight,” Anya replied from under her covers.

“Yeah, no, you wish you were _that_ cool,” the redhead replied as she uncovered her friend’s body. “Now get your ass up or we’ll be late for our first lesson.”

“I already told you, I’m skipping today’s class.”

“Whatever you say, Head Girl,” Ginny replied as she made her way towards the staircase. “Be down in five minutes or I’ll levitate you all the way to Defence Against the Dark Arts.”

Five minutes later they were walking towards their following class, roles reversed as Anya was dragging her feet and Ginny had to grab her arm to make her walk faster.

“I’d rather have you buggering me to go to class than the other way around,” Ginny said as they reached the entrance. “Is everything okay?”

“Why is it so hard to believe I’m not particularly fancying going to my lessons today?” Anya replied. “I’m not an emotionless git that only finds happiness in studying.”

The truth was, Anya’s desire to study, or lack thereof, wasn’t the reason she didn’t want to go to class. She wasn’t particularly thrilled to see Draco and his mood changes and had been successfully dodging him ever since they had visited Andromeda. She wasn’t angry at him, she was just tired.

The first thing she had done after returning was going to McGonagall’s office to tell her everything about the afternoon she had just spent with her professor; she didn’t think it was valuable information, but Minerva had seemed interested in the fact that Draco had found a way to go in and out of Hogwarts grounds whenever he liked. She had dismissed the fact that he was seeing his aunt, but Anya thought she sensed something other than indifference in her face; had she been anyone else, Anya would’ve thought she seemed disgusted.

Nevertheless, she had withheld some information which she thought to be extremely irrelevant: the bond Draco had formed with his second nephew. Despite never knowing where he stood with him, she felt a sense of loyalty towards him that she couldn’t quite comprehend. She had no trouble fulfilling her duties as the Order’s designated spy and telling McGonagall everything she needed to know about her professor’s movements, but she was reluctant to reveal his more personal information. She hadn’t told anyone about their encounter with the Boggart, and how it had turned into Lucius Malfoy in front of his son, and she wouldn’t tell either about his newfound bond with Teddy Lupin.

A quick nudge to her ribs brought her back to reality. She turned her head to glare at whoever had done it, but the minute she saw Luna’s gentle grey eyes she forgot all about her annoyance.

“Oh, hi Lu,” she smiled at her. “What’s up?”

“I’m sorry I poked you,” she replied. “Class is about to start and you were lost in your thoughts. I know how much you hate missing bits of the explanation.”

“Yeah, thank you.”

She reluctantly diverted her attention back to the front of the room, where she saw Draco, who was going through the papers in his briefcase. She made a mental note not to look up too much, in order to avoid his eyes which were scanning the room and checking whether everyone was seated. She was, however, too slow to look down and her eyes met his; for a brief moment, she felt as if they were alone in that room and the only means of communication between them was their eyes: hers an everlasting brown hue, deep and inquiring, and his, a turbulent grey, like melting icebergs that reflected the sun in the middle of the ocean. Anya remembered that muggle movie she had seen and hoped she never got close enough to find out whether they’d make her sink deep in the frozen waters.

She lowered her head the minute she noticed they were staring at each other, and looked to her side to make sure no one had noticed anything strange. Each student was minding their own business, either being secretive with their friends or looking out the windows as if they were the most interesting view. She exhaled in relief, but then noticed Luna was looking straight at her, with an unmistakeable inquisitive look. Anya decided to pretend she didn’t notice and took out her quill, but she felt uneasy knowing her friend’s eyes were fixed on her.

The class went on and Anya kept her eyes on her parchment, scribbling down her notes and pretending to be extremely concentrated in what her professor was saying; she didn’t dare look up, wanting to avoid Draco’s and Luna’s eyes. Luckily for her, Ari and Ginny didn’t seem to have noticed any odd behaviour and were being their usual selves. That time, apparently, they were discussing under their breaths the pros and cons of sneaking out at midnight to get drunk in the Hog’s Head. Anya just smiled and gave ironic answers when referred to, which seemed to content her friends.

“Am I not amusing enough, Bagman?” Draco suddenly asked, raising his voice.

“No, Sir—I mean, yes sir! I was just asking Anya…” Marcus bumbled as he quickly turned his attention back to their professor.

“That’s not what I asked. Five points from Gryffindor,” the blonde man said as he turned his back to his class.

Ari sniggered in a hushed tone, amused at the fact that his friend had got caught instead of him. He and Ginny had been talking throughout the entire class, and Marcus hadn’t said a word up until a few seconds before Draco scolded him. He had been paying close attention to everything their professor had said and only stopped once he noticed Anya was unlike her usual self and looked contemplative as her quill laid untouched beside her parchment. He had tried calling her name but she was immersed in her thoughts; not wanting to interrupt the class, he had ended up placing his hand on her thigh in an attempt to get her attention. As soon as Anya had looked at him, he tried removing his hand to avoid making her feel uncomfortable, but the Ravenclaw placed hers on top of his and squeezed it, silently telling him everything was fine. When their professor called out his name, his mind was still on his friend’s leg and he blushed at the fact that he had been caught.

“I hate him sometimes,” Marcus said, annoyed.

“Makes two of us,” Anya replied.

She was finally about to attempt concentrating during the remaining minutes of their class, but she felt a nudge on her left side. She turned and was met by a pair of endlessly curious grey eyes.

“Anya?” Luna asked, hesitantly.

“Yes?”

“What’s going on between you and Draco Malfoy?”

Anya’s heart gave a leap at the unexpected inquiry. Ever since she had accepted her task at the beginning of the school year, she had known Luna would eventually find out; she always _knew._ But she didn’t think that moment would’ve come so soon.

“What do you mean? I’m pretty positive everyone in this room hates him from time to time,” she replied, trying to avoid the implication that lay within her friend’s question.

“I’ve had a feeling something’s going on ever since the quidditch tryouts,” Luna replied in an almost imperceptible tone. “I’ve seen you looking at each other and Ari told me he saw you two together in the library once. I’ve also noticed you keep spending your afternoons somewhere other than with Madame Pince when you say you’re going to study.”

What infuriated Anya the most was the fact that she could scarcely ever lie to Luna. She could get away with hiding things from anyone else, but not her. She was the most observant and intuitive person Anya knew, and she never meant any harm by pointing out things probably no one else noticed. The brunette couldn’t pretend to be mad because she was meddling in her business because Luna only ever wanted to know the response to the questions she asked just in case she could do anything to help her friends or they needed someone to talk to, never to gossip.

Anya kept quiet as she thought of what to answer and her friend took her silence as a confirmation for her suspicions.

“Are you _meeting_ him? In private?” she asked her friend, raising her eyebrows.

“No! I would never… I promise you, nothing’s going on,” she replied, alarmed those questions could lead to assumptions that simply weren’t true.

“If you didn’t want to confide in me, you could’ve said so…” the blonde replied, lowering her head back to her parchment.

Anya felt worse than she had in a long time; seeing her friends upset was her Achilles’ heel, especially if they were distressed because of her. She saw Luna as fragile as she had ever seen her, strands of golden locks blocking her from view and her shoulders slumped in defeat. She knew her friend had been unwell ever since their last visit to Hogsmeade and she had still managed to make her feel worse. As much as Luna was the best at reading those who surrounded her, Anya wasn’t too bad either: she hadn’t told her friend but she had noticed how she had been avoiding Ginny and had mysteriously fled the room every time they coincided anywhere. In class, she had started seating next to Anya and as far away from their red-haired friend as physically possible. Despite anything else that might have been happening between her two friends, Anya knew Ginny was Luna’s best friend and the one person she confided (almost) everything in and whatever was going on between them, it had made her blonde friend lose both her closest person and the woman she loved most.

She resolved it was best to tell her the part of the truth she could divulge.

“You’re right, Lu, there _is_ something going on,” she carefully said, weighing her friend’s reaction.

“I knew it,” Luna said, her eyes shining when she realised her intuition hadn’t failed her. “I can’t say I’m not baffled, but just so you know, I trust you and if you think he has some redeeming qualities…”

“Merlin, no!” Anya replied and had to cover her mouth when she noticed it had come out louder than she had expected. “There’s nothing of _that_ sort going on between us.”

“That’s actually a relief, I know what I said but honestly, I don’t know if I would’ve ever been completely fine with that. Him having taken part in my capture and what not,” Luna replied, visibly relieved. “What is it, then?”

The brunette looked around, making sure no one was eavesdropping on their conversation. “You have to promise not to say a thing, not even to our friends. What I’m about to tell you cannot be disclosed to anyone.”

“I promise,” Luna said, a small smile on her face.

“I was given a task by the Order,” Anya whispered and Luna had to lean closer to make out what she was saying. “Since I’m Head Girl, McGonagall asked me to keep an eye on Drac—our professor, to make sure he’s as trustworthy as he says he is.”

Luna was intently listening so she opened her mouth once more: “That’s why I’ve been spending so much time with him. I’ve volunteered to be his teaching assistant in order to get closer to him. That’s all there is between us, nothing more.”

 _“Partially,”_ Anya thought to herself, but kept quiet.

Luna was still smiling when she briefly intertwined her fingers with her friend’s and gave them a quick squeeze: “Thank you for confiding in me, Anya. I promise this will remain a secret.”

The blonde girl returned to her notes, and Anya couldn’t help but smile when she noticed she had considerably cheered up.

For the second time in the day, she was finally about to grab her quill when an urgent knock interrupted the class.

“Come in,” Draco called from the front of the class.

The door opened to reveal McGonagall, who avidly looked around the room.

“I’m sorry to disturb your class, professor, but I need to borrow Weasley and Rodríguez for a moment.”

Ginny and Anya looked at each other as every other head had turned their way too. The Ravenclaw looked to the front of the class and she noticed Draco’s eyes were already fixed on hers, looking somewhere between curious and concerned. He motioned them to get up and both girls followed their headmistress outside the room.

“Is everything okay, Professor?” Ginny asked with notorious anxiousness.

“I’m afraid not, Weasley,” she replied in a grave voice which made both girls exchange concerned looks. “If you’d be kind enough to follow me.”

They walked towards her office and Anya noticed her friend was trembling from head to toes. She grabbed one of her hands and didn’t let go until they were seated before the stern looking woman.

“I’m deeply saddened to be the bearer of bad news,” she said and both girls grabbed each other tighter. “There’s been an attack on some acquaintances of yours.”

“Who?” Anya quickly asked as she felt her heart thumping uncontrollably.

“Andromeda Tonks and Teddy Lupin,” the professor whispered with saddened eyes.

Anya felt Ginny tense up and squeeze tighter; she felt her hand going numb from the lack of blood circulation but she was too bewildered to comment on it.

“When? What happened? Who did it? Are they okay?” Ginny mumbled as tears started prickling down her cheeks.

“They were lucky enough to escape unharmed and are now safely sheltered in one of the Order’s safehouses,” she quickly reassured them. “Nobody saw who it was, but we suspect Death Eaters. What remains of them, at least.”

Both students let out all the air they had been holding and collapsed onto their chairs almost at the same time.

McGonagall pointed her wand at the hearth and a green-flamed fire lit up in the previously hollow space. “Weasley, you’re excused from all your classes today. You may take the Floo Network to your home to check up on your godson and your return will be arranged for tomorrow before your classes.”

Ginny kissed the top of Anya’s head and, without another word, was swallowed by the flames. The room was left in a dire silence.

“I thought you should know too, since you visited them a few days ago,” McGonagall added.

“Thank you, professor,” a grateful Anya replied, glad Ginny had been so eager to leave she hadn’t stopped to wonder why was Anya there.

“You are excused too, if you feel unwell.”

“I’m conflicted, Minerva,” the Ravenclaw replied as the gears in her head kept turning. “Why were they attacked?”

McGonagall intertwined her fingers and looked at her student from above her glasses. “We cannot be certain, but we have reason to believe Mister Malfoy was sighted near their home and unwillingly made them the Death Eaters’ targets. Ever since the end of the war he hasn’t been a particularly respected person among their ranks.”

“But how did they know Malfoy was visiting them? He could’ve just been in the neighbourhood and the only people who knew he was actually visiting them were him, you and I.”

Anya suddenly remembered Draco and jumped from her seat, scolding herself for having forgotten about him. Before McGonagall could give her an answer, she softened her tone.

“Thank you for letting me know about this, Professor. Can I be excused?”

As soon as McGonagall nodded, Anya ran towards the entrance and down the stairs. She dodged students left and right, not caring about the odd looks she was getting.

She was out of breath when she reached the door of the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom and had to press her back to the cold stones in the wall to recover. The door opened and all her classmates left towards their next classes, casting sad glances at her. Ari, Luna and Marcus stopped in front of her and asked her what happened, but she told them she’d tell fill them in later since she had something to do. With puzzled looks, they left her alone and Anya went into the room, praying her professor was still there; to her luck, he was.

“Draco,” she called out his name. “You don’t have to talk, just listen. McGonagall just told us there’s been an attack on Andromeda and Teddy. They’re okay and staying at a friend’s house. McGonagall believes they were attacked by Death Eaters because you were sighted nearby, although I have no idea how they could possibly know you were visiting them. I promise I didn’t tell anyone.”

She had told him almost all of the truth in one single breath, and he had just stood there, his hands paralyzed mid-air holding his class notes. His eyes were round and his mouth slightly ajar as his chest inflated and deflated rapidly. Anya waited for a reaction, but he seemed to be in a state of shock.

“Drac—?”

He suddenly started moving, carelessly storing all of his belongings into his briefcase with a wild look in his eyes. His hands were briefly holding the handle and he strode across the room without a word.

He seemed to come out of his state of shock just before going out, because he slowly turned around and acknowledged Anya, who was still standing in the same place. He walked back to where she was, hesitated for a moment and finally decided to give her a quick but tight hug.

“Thank you, Anya,” he simply muttered, and he disappeared around the corner.


	24. Misplaced Trust

Since the attack on Andromeda and Teddy had been the first one since the end of the war, the following day every newspaper’s headlines were occupied by the horrid success. Their names, however, weren’t mentioned even once, and Anya guessed that was the Order’s doing.

Even though the attack hadn’t left any casualties, the moment Anya stepped into the Great Hall for breakfast she sensed something different in the air. Every head was bent over a newspaper and there was an eerie silence that was only interrupted by the cautious whispers between students. No one was sitting alone and poorly concealed glares were thrown in every direction, the Slytherin table being the one where most eyes darted towards. Ari himself had abandoned his regular spot in his house’s table and was sitting in the Ravenclaw table next to Luna and Ky. Ginny was yet to return from The Burrow and even though no one talked about it, Anya could feel her friends’ anxiousness as they awaited her arrival.

Even the professors were uneasy, uncomfortably shifting in their seats as they read the papers. McGonagall was the only absent one and Anya’s eyes scanned the table in search for her blonde-haired professor; she didn’t have the strength to deny it to herself anymore. She was concerned and wanted to see him just to make sure he was still in one piece and hadn’t done anything he shouldn’t have. She was relieved to find him there, looking more dishevelled than she had ever seen him but uninjured; the piece of paper on which he was scribbling had his undivided attention, so Anya could look at him without being noticed.

“When do you think she’s coming back? You were there with her,” Luna asked, making the other Ravenclaw look away embarrassingly.

“McGonagall said she’d arrange for her to come back before our first class, so I guess any minute now,” she answered, buttering her toast.

She looked back up and saw Luna staring at the doors, her cup of tea untouched and no longer releasing smoke. Two dark rings framed the bottom lid of her eyes and her fingers were restless atop her lap. Ari’s eyes were fixed on her, worryingly, and the brunette could tell he wanted to say something, anything, but he couldn’t think of the right words; Ky’s thumb was gently drawing circles on his hand, which melted into his dark robes under the table. Anya didn’t think any of them could say anything that would appease her blonde friend, so he just grabbed her hand and squeezed it between hers. Luna looked at her, gratefully, and placed her head atop her friend’s shoulder. Nobody spoke of it, but they all knew they had already lived similar situations and none of them were eager to relive them after the Battle: defeated sighs, watery eyes, the whispers from around the Hall and the moving in pairs at all times; those weren’t new things to them. Anya hadn’t had time to digest it because so many feelings had come in the way, but the moment McGonagall asked Ginny and her to step out of the class without giving an explanation, every horrid thought had appeared in her head. During Voldemort’s reign of terror, it was quite usual for professors to do that exact same thing and every student’s worst fear was being called outside one of their classes; it almost always meant bad news.

They had been taught how to disarm an enemy before they were asked what they wanted to do when they grew up; they’d had to endure the grief and loss none of them should’ve at such a young age. They had lost friends, family and they had been robbed of their youth. Nothing about wars was ever fair and they knew that all too well.

“I leave you all alone for a day and you’re already devastated by my absence?” they heard a voice say from behind.

“Yeah, last time I checked _I_ was the one who died and I don’t see you lot crying much about it,” a second voice added.

They didn’t have to turn around to know whose voices those were; either of them could detect the Weasley sarcasm from miles. Luna leapt up from her seat and didn’t care who was watching; she wrapped her arms around Ginny’s neck and hugged her tightly, while her astounded red haired friend wrapped hers around her waist. It felt like such an intimate scene that they all looked away, giving them as much privacy as they could in a room full of staring students.

The moment Anya looked down, a folded piece of parchment appeared in front of her eyes. She unfolded it, curiously, and read three simple lines written in a cursive letter she was beginning to be familiar with:

_Meet me in my office at 9:00. I’ll write you a note to excuse you from your first minutes of class._

  1. _L. M._



Anya crumpled the parchment in her hand and hid it from her friends’ view, who were luckily too immersed in their conversation with Ginny to notice it. She discreetly looked at the professor’s table and saw the whirling grey eyes of Draco Malfoy staring back at her. As soon as he caught her eye, he raised his eyebrows; Anya simply nodded once to let him now she’d got his message. He proceeded to get up from his chair, stride across the Hall and disappear around the corner.

Anya knew it could look suspicious if she rose at the same time as him, so she returned her attention to her friends just in time to hear Ginny telling them she’d seen Andromeda and Teddy and they were doing better. That new bit of information eased their anxiousness just enough to get by.

They chatted for a few more minutes with Fred, who kept joking around to make them feel better and succeeded in doing so. They decided to get up from their tables and head towards their first classes; Anya, however, excused herself saying she’d forgot her books and she’d see them shortly after. Marcus, who had joined them right before they got up from the table, offered to accompany her back to the Ravenclaw tower but she dismissed him, saying she didn’t want to make him late for class. She had no time to think about the Gryffindor’s hurt eyes as she quickly scaled and descended different sets of stairs in her way to her professor’s office, her curiosity getting the best of her as she tried to imagine what he’d want to talk to her about. The last time they had seen each other, other than when she’d had to tell him his aunt and second nephew had been in mortal danger, he’d made very clear that he didn’t want anything to do with her. She just hoped it was something class-related and she could go back to her lessons without much delay.

She stood before his door and wiped her hand on her robes before knocking twice. It magically opened and she saw her blonde professor pointing his wand at the wooden door; once she stepped inside, he closed it with another swish.

Before she sat down, she heard him mutter “ _Muffliato”_. Her heart skipped a beat.

“You wanted to see me?” she asked, as a way of engaging in a conversation he didn’t seem too keen on starting himself.

“I just need to ask you a few questions, that’s all. You’ll be free to leave in a few minutes,” he answered, neatly setting his wand parallel to the edge of his desk.

“How’s… How are you?”

Draco sighed and gave her a weak smile. “I’m doing fine. Thank you again for the warning yesterday. I could get in contact with both of them and I’m going to visit their house as soon as I know it’s safe for me to be near them again.”

Anya felt a wave of sympathy towards her professor. He looked more tired than she had ever seen him and he didn’t seem to care for his neat suit as much as he always did; he was leaning carelessly against his chair’s back and there were wrinkles forming near the places where his body touched the wood.

“There’s something I need to ask you, regarding the attack,” he continued. “I need to know who knows we went to Andromeda’s house.”

The question caught Anya by surprise. “Just the two of us,” she lied.

Draco was scrutinizing her eyes, trying to get the truth from her. She kept the eye contact as much as she could, but eventually lowered her gaze when she felt as transparent as the unmoving water in a pond.

“Anya,” he called her name. “I’m begging you.”

She felt her cheeks grow warm as she met his eyes again. “Why do you ask?”

“Because we were in the most remote part of the forest when we Apparated, there’s no way anyone saw us there. And nobody saw us leave, either; it was too dark,” he explained.

While Draco spoke, Anya’s head was full of thoughts. She felt sorry for him, of course she did, but she also had a duty to fulfil and she couldn’t disclose what she’d told McGonagall or she would be at risk of jeopardising the Order’s task. And even if she did, it was McGonagall; it wouldn’t be relevant information.

“I find it strange, too,” she added, trying to buy herself some time. “But the only plausible explanation seems to be that someone saw us despite all the precautions we took.”

“I don’t know, Anya,” he said, placing his defeated head between his hands. “I thought this was all over.”

Anya stayed silent, supressing the comment she wanted to make:

_You were one of them too. You almost hit me with an Unforgivable Curse during the Battle, in case you’ve already forgot._

She startled herself for thinking about it; ever since McGonagall had told her she’d have to spend time with Draco, she’d been reluctant due to the confrontation they’d had less than two years before which almost resulted in her being hit by a spell that came from his wand. When she got to know him more in depth, she’d tried to push that thought to the back of her head in order to focus on the task she’d been assigned. During their first encounters, that same thought weighed on her; it created an unfathomable abyss between her and her professor that none of them could overpass. She’d thought she had got over that feeling that twisted her insides and filled her with an unprecedented rage; she’d managed to separate her personal feelings from her task at hand, and had successfully managed to form a bond with him.

She realised, as she sat and watched her professor, that she couldn’t forgive the fact that he almost killed her during the Battle; the thought still made her fists clench and her eyes squint.

“I thought so too,” she replied, with such a cold tone that he looked up at her in confusion. “And don’t worry, the only person I told this to is Professor McGonagall.”

“But why did you tell her?” Draco asked with the same quizzical look in his face.

“Because she caught me when I was returning to the castle,” Anya lied. “She said she’d seen you come from the same direction and I had to tell her you’d found me trying to Apparate to Andromeda’s house and you couldn’t convince me to stay in Hogwarts grounds, so you went with me to make sure I was okay and then accompanied me back.”

She was extremely pleased at how easy it had been for her to come up with a credible lie; she was getting better at it and didn’t know whether it was something to be proud of. She only told him the truth so he could be certain there was no one to blame but himself and his past. Anya had to remind herself, despite her own feelings, she was still trying to be friendly towards him. She cleared her throat and remained professional.

“So the only person that could possibly know we were there is Minerva?” he asked once again.

“Like I’ve already said,” Anya replied. “I’m positive she’s the only one.”

Draco stared out the window for a few seconds, his eyes fixed on nothing as his thoughts twisted and turned. Anya had to force herself to look away from his defined jaw and the way the morning light gently highlighted his cheekbones.

“Right,” he suddenly said, his cloudy eyes looking back at her. “Take this note to your professor to account for your late arrival. You’re free to go.”

Anya smiled at him and stood up, heading towards the door.

“Thank you for telling me the truth,” she heard him say from behind and didn’t turn, for once.


	25. Unveiled Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️
> 
> This chapter contains homophobic/transphobic slurs. If you're uncomfortable with reading anything of the sort, you can skip that bit; I'll put the warning emoji (⚠️) at the beggining and end of the fragment that contains the triggering words, so you can make sure to skip right through that portion. If you choose to do so, just know it's a confrontation; you'll understand the rest of the chapter just fine :)
> 
> Be kind to yourself and know, if you're part of the LGBTQIAA+ community, that none of the offensive words here are true. You're valid, you're awesome and I love you💚

Ari’s limp body lay on the floor and he wished all the pain would just stop.

It had been two weeks since the attack that shook the wizarding world to the core had occurred, and it was still on everyone’s mouth; students didn’t dare to walk the hallways alone, professors looked distressed and whispers could be heard around every corner. Some students, involuntarily, walked the other way every time a Slytherin approached them and shunned them as if they were the bearers of a contagious disease.

“Yeah, it’s better if you run away from me, I don’t want to catch whatever disease made you have that disgusting look on your face,” Ari shouted at a group of fifth years who got up from their seats as soon as they saw him.

“Don’t mind them,” Anya said as she glared at them. “They’re just being stupid.”

As much as Ari loved Anya, he knew she’d never truly understand. He’d been sorted into Slytherin one year after his half-brother had been put in Gryffindor and it had shaken their entire family. To Dean it had never made a difference; he only saw it as one more thing to tease his brother about. But during his time at Hogwarts, Ari often found himself wishing he had been sorted anywhere else. He was lucky he’d found his best friends during his first day of school, because as the years passed, the prejudices against all the green-robed students had only multiplied and he had lost a handful of acquaintances when he’d never once shown any desire to uphold the ridiculous pure-blood ideas most of his house mates divulged. He’d had to hide behind his friends just before the Battle started so he wasn’t taken to the dungeons with the rest of his cowardly fellow Slytherins; he’d had to battle against people he’d once shared a common room with. He’d had to earn his place as a trustworthy person and had always strived to succeed and prove he was as deserving as any other student.

And as if they didn’t already have enough on their plate, certain groups of students, who had a tendency to pick fights just for the thrill of it, had emboldened after the assault and started terrorising younger students. Head Boys and Girls along with their Prefects were often taking points and giving out detentions, but that didn’t seem to be stopping them.

Ari’s head had been a twirling mess ever since the attack and he was so lost in his own world that he didn’t hear the three sets of footsteps that were following him down the deserted corridor.

⚠️

“If it isn’t Slytherin’s own queer scum!” Ari heard from behind.

He turned around, his hand already in his pocket and gripping his wand firmly. Walking towards him, he saw one green robe, one red and one yellow; he soon recognised them as Colm Kennedy, Martin Smith and Silvanus Rosier.

“What’d you want?” Ari asked, trying to sound polite.

“You’re in our way,” Silvanus replied.

Ari looked to his sides and then back at the trio: “The corridor’s wide enough for me, you three and your big mouths.”

“You better watch your back, you filthy tranny,” Colm spat.

“You better watch yours, Kennedy,” Ari replied in the calmest manner. “I can only imagine what _your boys_ will say if they see you talking to me in a deserted corridor.”

“They’ll know I’m riding the school of queer garbage like you.”

At this statement, Ari’s heart began thumping so loud in his chest he had to cough to make sure none of them could hear his fear through his heartbeat. Whenever his heart rate picked up abruptly, the heat in his chest rose and the pain started clouding his eyes. He stood tall regardless; he’d never let them see him defeated.

“Just go along and out of my sight,” he replied, masking the agony in his voice.

“Don’t think so. D’you reckon this sissy needs to learn a lesson or two, yeah?” Silvanus answered, looking at his friends.

“I thought you had a policy of pestering children half your size exclusively,” Ari sneered with the last of his strengths.

“We can make an exception for you,” the boy stated as he wielded his wand.

Ari took a few yielding steps back, pointing his wand at them but trying not to think about the fact that he was outnumbered. He had his right hand to his chest and was trying to loosen his tie in order to breathe properly. He glanced around to come up with a distraction and he saw one of the tapestries that concealed a passageway to his left; if he could be fast enough to reach it, he could simply use “ _Duro”_ to harden the drapery and keep the three boys from following him. He kept taking steps backwards as the others advanced with scar-like smirks and fire in their eyes.

“The faggot’s trying to teach us how to ballet?” Martin hissed as he threw the first hex.

⚠️

Ari was perceptive enough to cast the shield charm, but his weakened body couldn’t produce a decent spell and he couldn’t deflect it entirely. He felt a tight rope rounding his ankles and fell to the ground. He managed to disarm the boy who’d hexed him, but two more wands were still pointing at him; he’d never be fast enough.

He was about to close his eyes and hope for the best when a jet of red light soared above his head and hit Colm in the middle of his chest. The boy tumbled backwards and fell to the ground, his wand disappearing under an armour. Ari could do nothing but watch as Silvanus smirked and adopted a duelling position and a few seconds later, Marcus was standing right in front of him with the same look of defiance on his face. Martin was about to grab his wand, but the Gryffindor pointed at it and it flew right into his hand.

“Rosier,” he muttered. “Drop your fucking wand.”

“Is the biggest blood-traitor going to give _me_ orders?” he snapped.

Marcus was about to disarm him, but Rosier was faster: “ _Cruc-“_

“Silencio!” a voice shouted from behind.

Silvanus choked on his words and spat on the floor, but when he tried to speak he couldn’t articulate a single sound. He put his hands to his throat and blinked with every footstep that approached them; his eyes were round and his breathing was heavy and rapid.

Ari, who had been watching the scene from the ground, too weak to get up, felt the heat in his chest cool down and could finally wipe the tears that had formed in his sore eyes. He saw Marcus, who was still shaken up, kneel beside him and offer his shoulder for him to put his arm around. He felt a second set of hands grabbing him by his sides and helping the Gryffindor pull him up. Ari turned around a saw Draco Malfoy, who after helping him snatched Silvanus’s wand from his hand.

“Get up,” he sneered and the cold in his voice sent shivers down Ari’s spine.

Silvanus and Martin helped Colm up and stood before their professor, frozen in fear. At once, the two students that could still speak started muttering explanations, but Draco shut them up at once.

“There’s nothing to explain here, cursing a classmate is against the rules. And cornering a student with three wands pointing at him is not only illegal but shows incredible cowardice,” he replied, glaring down at them. “One hundred points will be taken from each of you and you’ll follow me to McGonagall’s office. I’ll make sure to suggest the Heads of your houses to give you detention every day until your last day at Hogwarts.”

His authoritative voice rumbled loudly in the empty corridor. The three aggressors were looking at the floor, unable to look at his ruthless grey eyes. Before heading towards the headmistress’s office, Draco turned around and looked at the two friends.

“Bagman, make sure to take Thomas to Madame Pomfrey to make sure everything’s okay. Will you manage by yourself?”

Marcus nodded and Draco did the same and then, led the other students away.

“Marcus, you can’t take me to the infirmary,” Ari said as soon as their professor was out of sight.

“What are you talking about? You couldn’t even stand up without my help. I’m taking you,” he replied, stubbornly, as he grabbed Ari by the waist and guided him.

“Marcus,” Ari replied, with all the firmness he could muster. “I can’t let her see me.”

“Why?”

“Because they only tied my ankles with the spell.”

“Then how come you’re this weak and ill-looking?”

Ari sighed and knew it was time to talk. He took out his wand, muttered under his breath and four small silvery badgers emerged from the tip of his wand.

“Something happened. Meet me and Marcus in the Room of Requirements right now.”

The animals squirreled away in different directions and he met Marcus’s confused eyes.

“Take me to the Room of Requirements. Anya, Luna, Ginny and Ky will meet us there and I’ll tell you all about it,” he said, with a voice filled with so much sadness it could drown the entire world and turn it grey.

***

Anya felt the world go silent as the six friends sat in a circle near the fire, looking up at Ari who was sprawled on the armchair and sweating profusely. The only sounds they could hear were the crackle of the burning firewood and the Slytherin’s words, which cut through the air like daggers against flesh.

After he was finished talking, nobody dared speak first. Ky was seating with her back to the armchair and holding Ari’s hand above her shoulder, Marcus was laying on the floor with the heels of his hands covering his eyes, Luna was drawing with his finger on the carpet, Anya was blankly staring at the fire, her arms around her legs, and Ginny was frantically pacing around the room.

“Let me get this straight,” she said, looking at her moving feet. “You’ve got a disease that’s making you burn from the inside out?”

“Yes,” Ari sighed.

“And you’ve simply decided to wait all this time to tell us?” the Gryffindor asked again.

“Also yes.”

“Why the fuck would you ever think that’s a good idea?”

“Gin,” Luna spoke for the first time, giving her friend a warning look. “It doesn’t matter what he has or hasn’t done, let’s be a little patient here.”

Ginny let out a frustrated breath before continuing her pacing around the room.

Anya suddenly came out of her stupor: “Have you done any research yet?”

“We have,” Ari replied, looking at Ky. “We’ve been browsing through the books in the library but there is very little information about the disease.”

“Splendid,” she replied, already making a mental list of books they’d have to go through. “What have you learnt about it?”

“Not much,” Ky replied. “There’s roughly about seventy registered cases. They all had the same symptoms as Ari in their early stages and not much is known about the advanced stages, but our guess is it’ll be the same only… a little more painful.”

“And how did they heal from it?” Anya replied, although she could predict the answer.

“They didn’t,” Ari interrupted in a sharp tone. “They all died.”

They needn’t say anything out loud, although all of them were thinking the exact same thing. They stayed in silence and, for a minute, pretended it was just another afternoon spent relaxing and they hadn’t just found out their best friend was dying.

“And you say you’ve already seen a specialist?” Marcus asked after a while.

“Yeah, Isadora. She’s great but underfunded,” the Slytherin replied. “Didn’t help much, she might’ve as well just gifted me flowers to place on my grave.”

“Stop it, Ari, don’t be like that,” Ky said in a strangled voice.

“Well, it’s not like I have a hopeful outlook ahead of me,” he replied, the bitterness consuming his voice.

“There must be something that can be done,” Marcus replied, although he hadn’t the faintest clue what they could possibly do to slow down death.

Luna’s face suddenly lit up, her eyes sparkling with the flames. “I think there’s one obvious solution to all of this, isn’t there?”

The room felt silent once again, five sets of eyes fixed on the blonde Ravenclaw whose eyes were still glimmering.

“Well then,” Ari replied. “Please enlighten us.”

“Well, you remember Fawkes right? His tears had magical properties that could heal wounds and other injuries.”

“Yeah, Lu, I don’t think this is something phoenix tears can fix,” Marcus replied, sadly. “This isn’t some superficial wound.”

“No, I know that,” Luna insisted, getting anxious. “In addition to their healing properties, Phoenixes die and rebirth from their ashes every few months.”

She paused, a smile on her face, but the others were still looking at her and raising their eyebrows, waiting for her to explain. She sighed: “They _burn down_ and rebirth from their ashes.”

A shade of recognition crossed Anya’s face. “You’re a genius, Lu. I don’t recall ever reading anything about it, though. D’you reckon it’s possible?”

“I think everything’s possible when your heart’s desire is strong enough,” she quizzically replied. Both girls were looking at each other, marvelled at the plan that had just started forming in their heads.

“Care sharing with the rest of the group? Merlin, I despise Ravenclaws sometimes,” Ari said while he rolled onto his side and faced the two friends.

“What Luna’s suggesting,” Anya said, unable to repress her smile, “is that you become an Animagus who takes the form of a Phoenix.”

“That way,” Luna interrupted, her excitement flooding out of her pores, “you can redirect that fire that’s burning you into the natural cycle of the animal and you’ll also get the healing properties to try to cure your disease.”

The girls were smiling at looking at their unamused friends, who had been intently listening and trying to piece the puzzle together. They had expected to be met with the same amount of enthusiasm but instead, got a room full of doubtful people.

“Well then,” Ari finally replied with a bitter look on his face. “Might as well start writing my will if _that’s_ our solution.”

Ky suddenly pushed off Ari’s hand, which was playing with her hair, and got up with her eyes full of tears. Without another word, she walked across the room and left.

A dire silence followed her exit.

“You could’ve been a little nicer with your girlfriend around,” Marcus scolded him.

“Yeah, well, you’re not the one who’s fucking dying, Marcus,” he replied as he tried to get up to go after her.

He was on his feet and ready to strut out of the room when he let out an agonizing whimper and he fell backwards and into Marcus’s and Ginny’s arms, who were quick enough to catch him. They deposited him back on the armchair and ordered him to stay down for a few more minutes.

“I’ll go and look for her, Ari. I’ll tell her to meet you later in your common room,” Anya replied as she headed out. “Please promise me to think about Luna’s idea? It’s the best we’ve got so far.”

As soon as she left the room, her heart started feeling heavy and her eyes started to tickle. She had managed to keep a straight face with her friends because she didn’t want Ari to know she was as hopeless as he was, but now she could allow herself to start digesting every bit of information their friend had told them.

Her friend was dying. And what infuriated her the most was the fact that she couldn’t do anything about it.

She quickly traversed the empty hallways and quickened her pace when she was nearing the Hufflepuff common room entrance, trying to catch a glimpse of Ky. She turned the corner just in time to see the back of her friend’s sleek, black hair go through the entrance and disappear behind it.

Anya sighed in frustration at the thought of having to wait for another student to let her in. Everyone was still in their classes, so she doubted it’d happen anytime soon.

She was just about to settle down next to the entrance and prepare herself for a long waiting when a voice startled her from behind, calling her name. She turned around and saw Draco, holding his class briefcase, and quickly assessing her.

“Is everything okay? You look distressed,” he asked.

Anya was about to answer she was fine, but every bit of sadness came back to her in waves of desperation and flooded her eyes. Before she knew it, it had become so unbearable that she felt herself overflow with sorrow right in front of the last person she’d ever wished to cry to.

“Shit,” Draco replied, uncertain as to what to do to comfort her. “Hey, hey, calm down, look at me.”

Anya looked up and Draco had to hold his breath and refrain from saying anything else that might upset her. Her hazel eyes had turned a lighter colour, almost green, and even though she looked extremely vulnerable, she looked as beautiful as ever.

“I’m sorry, is it something I said?” he quickly asked, tossing those importunate thoughts aside.

“N-no,” she replied, her voice quavering before she took a few deep breaths. “Something happened with my friend.”

“Oh, I know,” he replied, happy he knew what she meant and could give her a meaningful response. “But don’t worry, the three fuck- sorry, the three _boys_ have been properly punished and I don’t think they will be bothering anyone anymore. I hope he’s not too shaken up?”

Anya was relieved she hadn’t had to come up with an excuse and didn’t correct him on his assumptions. “Yeah, he was a little distraught but he’ll be fine. It just caught me by surprise, that’s all.”

She was able to maintain a civil conversation without bursting into tears again and wished she would manage to hold them back so he wouldn’t see her cry again.

“Don’t worry, Thomas is a tough guy, he’ll be better soon,” Draco said, weighing that was the best thing to say in that exact moment.

It wasn’t. Anya looked into his eyes and started sobbing uncontrollably again.

“Fuck’s sake, I never say the right thing,” he responded, frustrated he couldn’t make her feel better. “It’s okay, come with me. I’ll make you a cup of tea.”

And with that, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and started gently guiding her towards his office. He had never been a religious man, but he sure was praying they didn’t encounter anyone on their way there or else who knows what they might have thought.

They managed to get to his office without being spotted and he made sure to place a cushion on the wooden chair across his desk to try to make her comfortable. With a simple movement of his wand, two cups of tea and a kettle that was releasing steam from its tip appeared in front of them.

“What was it that you liked to eat with your tea? Mince pie, was it?”

Anya nodded, trying to steady her breath and drying the wet trails that ended in her chin. A plate full of her favourite dessert landed neatly right next to her hand and she gratefully accepted the cup her professor was offering her.

They sat for a few minutes in silence, while Anya drank the infusion and Draco worryingly looked at her. She inhaled in the scented tea and felt calmer.

“I always found it amusing how you eat mince pies even when it’s not Christmas,” he said, trying to take her mind off her worries. “You’re odd.”

“Yeah, well, you’re the one to talk, Monsieur I-Only-Drink-Tea-When-It’s-As-Dark-As-My-Soul,” she replied, a faint smile threatening to make its way towards her lips.

“Sweetened tea is awful. Don’t even get me started on milk,” he replied, and wondered what that feeling in his chest was that he felt when she remembered how he drank his tea.

They chatted until their plates held only crumbs and their cups were dry and cold. Anya was enjoying talking to him about anything that could help her take her mind off the fact that his friend was sick and there was no cure for it; Draco did all he could to keep the conversation going.

So when the porcelain on their cups grew cold, he moved his wand and filled them to the brim again. Anya’s desire to keep distracted matched Draco’s to keep her company and so she stayed for two cups and three more portions of mince pie.


	26. Your Graceful Touch

_All students must make themselves present in the Great Hall at 10am on Thursday morning. Classes before lunchtime will be dismissed._

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Headmistress_

The Hogwarts students had awoken on Thursday morning with the same announcement on the message boards in their respective common rooms. The Great Hall had been filled with chatter as they all wondered what the mysterious notice could be about; it was rare that their Headmistress herself would ask them to assemble and even more, let them skip class. The rumours were divided between those who augured bad news and those who dismissed it saying nothing too grave could be occurring or otherwise they’d already heard about it.

Anya was as puzzled as everyone else, but deep down she was hoping no bad news came their way. They’d had enough for a few lifetimes and for some weeks the air had been clear so she hoped it’d stay that way.

“What do you think all of this is about?” she asked Luna back in their dormitory, as they were getting ready to go downstairs.

“Maybe we’ll have duelling classes again,” Luna suggested, as she put her hair up in front of the mirror. “With what happened last month with the Death Eaters and all.”

“I don’t think so,” Anya replied, hopefully. “I think that’s under control now, it’s not likely to happen again.”

“I hope so,” her friend replied and fell silent.

Anya pretended to be tying the laces of her shoes to avoid the blonde’s eyes. “How’s Ginny doing now?”

Luna softly smiled, looking at Anya through the mirror, and she too pretended to be occupied. “She’s doing better, I think. It all just stirred up old memories she had been trying to avoid confronting.”

“I think it’s good that she has you,” Anya replied in a low tone.

“She has all of us.”

“Yeah, of course she does. But ever since you two became friends she’s always had a soft spot for you. If there’s someone who always knows how to make her feel better, that’s definitely you.”

Anya looked up for the first time and saw her friend sitting on the edge of her bed, playing with a rogue thread that had detached from the seam in the inner side of her sleeve.

“Maybe she did,” Luna cautiously replied. “I don’t know if she does anymore. I wish she could just be more honest about how she feels. I believe she’s tangled up between what she’s always felt and what she’s realising she could feel if she allowed herself to.”

Anya had known Luna for years and she knew her friend was one of the most honest people she had ever encountered. She had always lived life with such simplicity so as not to have anything that could keep her head from continuously exploring, learning and creating that she could sometimes come across as rude if you didn’t know her; if she wanted to know something, she’d ask it with no hesitation and that’s what she liked the most about the blonde-haired Ravenclaw. But whenever she was asked about her feelings, she’d always answer with riddles or grandiloquent phrases. Anya knew her too well to let her get away with those, so they’d constructed a system where Anya could ask her a question and Luna could answer indirectly but clear enough for her friend to understand. And they could be there for each other, despite the issues they sometimes had with sharing their true feelings.

Anya got up and sat beside her friend, simply holding her hand. Luna closed her eyes for a few moments, squeezed her hand tightly and opened them again, visibly more relieved. Without another word, the brunette went back to her own bed and tidied up her clothes as if nothing had happened.

“And how’s your task going?” Luna asked, leaning against the wall as she waited for her friend to be ready.

“It’s going just fine,” she answered, not knowing exactly what to say. “At least McGonagall thinks so.”

“That’s good, Anya,” her friend replied. “You’re the best person I can think of for this task. I’m glad the Order could see it as well.”

Anya knew Luna meant it; she never said anything she didn’t really mean and fake flattery wasn’t something on her vocabulary. She got up and hugged her friend, trying to convey how glad she was to have her in her life. Luna hugged her back and they went down into their common room, their hands still clinging to each other.

They chatted all the way to the Great Hall and waited next to the entrance for their friends. Once they were all together, they went into the room and saw all the tables had disappeared and hundreds of chairs were placed in a circle, leaving an empty space in the middle. They sat down in one of the middle rows and anxiously waited for their Headmistress to start speaking.

Ten minutes later, the whole student body was seated and abnormally quiet, some with fear and some with excitement. McGonagall finally made her way to the centre of the room and any whisper that could have been heard immediately fell silent. She was joined by all the professors, from Trelawney to Hagrid, and Anya found herself softly smiling back at Draco when he looked in her direction. They were all wearing smiles on their faces, some with more excitement than others, so Anya guessed nothing too terrible could come out of her headmistress’s mouth.

“Good morning to all,” McGonagall stated, looking at all of them. “We’ve gathered you all here to share with you an event that’s set to take place in just a month’s time.”

The whispers arose again, that time with more excitement than before, but were quickly silenced again when McGonagall spoke again:

“As you may all know, the second day of May is the anniversary that commemorates the date when we all fought bravely against Lord Voldemort’s forces and, with our joint efforts, defeated once and for all his dark magic and the Dark Lord himself,” she said, in a monotone voice that sounded as if what she said had been scripted.

A different kind of silence flooded the Great Hall as even the birds outside seemed to have stopped chirping. Anya looked instinctively at her friends, whose face muscles had grown tense, and then at Draco; she wasn’t the only one, as some professors casted a quick glance at him and some other students did as well, in a less friendly manner than the adults. He simply looked down at his feet, his jaw clenched and his hands in his pockets.

“The events that unravelled that fatidic day are still recent and fresh in our memories,” McGonagall continued. “As victors, it is our duty to remember all the friends, family and students we’ve lost and honour their memory; it is also pertinent we give ourselves a night to cherish each other and remember that, in spite of everything else, we have survived.

“That is why a ball will take place on that date. Shrines will be placed throughout the castle for anyone who might want to remember their lost ones; the ball is not intended to make us forget the terrors we have lived in the past years, but to relish we are still here and stronger than ever. Attendance is not mandatory and each House will have a sign-up sheet to write down the names of the students who are attending.”

Murmurs could be heard again, and Anya thought everyone seemed excited. She thought it was a good idea, to spend that night dancing with friends and not mourning all the losses they’d suffered. In wars, there were never winners: there were just survivors; and if they had the chance to turn the anniversary into a night where they could drink to their friends and remember them with smiles on their faces, she would take it.

And even if they didn’t feel like dancing, there was going to be a feast. Anya was most excited about the food; she thought about the Yule Ball’s feast and her stomach started to roar.

“However,” McGonagall added, “the reason why we have gathered you all here is because balls have certain _formalities_ that need to be met. With that being said, today we’ll be having dance lessons for every student, whether you’re attending the Ball or not.”

The approving murmurs turned into loud sighs as everyone realised they’d have to dance in front of their classmates sooner than they had expected. Dancing lessons were never entertaining if you were the centre of attention; Anya knew Harry had been forced to practise by the twins and how they’d mocked him for months. Anya herself was a great dancer, but she could merge in if everyone else was dancing; she just hoped she would be able to sneak to the darker corners of the room to avoid being seen.

“Quiet, everyone,” McGonagall instructed. “First years, over there, with Professor Flitwick. Second years, with Madame Sprout; third and fourth years with Professors Sinistra and Vector. Fifth years, over here with Professor Slughorn. Sixth and seventh years, with Professor Malfoy and me.”

As the headmistress gave the instructions, a rumbling of chairs filled the room as every student moved towards their designated professors. Soon, there were five different smaller circles around the Great Hall, the professors at the centre of each one of them. Anya stood beside her friends and diagonally to Draco, so he would just need to lift his head a few centimetres to make eye contact with her.

“I expect most of you will learn faster than the first years,” McGonagall said, earning a laugh from her students. “Now, on to the demonstration. Do I have any volunteers?”

Everyone felt silent and nobody moved a muscle forward, scared they’d be chosen to dance in front of their friends. Anya looked to her side, to see whether any of her friends would come forward, but instead saw Ginny’s and Ari’s mouths grow into grins.

Nothing good could come out of that situation.

“If I may, professor,” Ari said, in the most pompous manner. “I think it’s only fair for our star students to demonstrate, wouldn’t you agree? They should be able to lead in situations like this.”

“Yes, I most certainly agree,” Ginny added, following along. “I think our prefects and our Head Boy and Girl would do a marvellous job.”

Both Anya and Marcus contorted their necks as soon as they realised what their friends were about to say and gave them murderous looks that would’ve scared anybody else; their friends were too invested in making their idea appealing to their professors to pay much attention to any of them. They both looked back at them, still smiling, and Anya mouthed some words that would’ve made McGonagall give her detention and deduct a number of points from Ravenclaw.

“Excellent thinking. 5 points to each of you,” McGonagall replied, oblivious to the second intentions hidden behind the proposition. “Prefects, Bagman, Rodríguez, please step forward.”

With one more deadly glare at their friends, who had begun sniggering and waving their hands at them, they joined the rest of the selected students in the centre of the room. They stood in order and Anya ended up standing between Marcus and Draco, who was looking at her with the faint ghost of a smile on his face. Anya rolled her eyes at him and her professor had to look down to his feet in order to hide his amused smile.

“Prefects, pair up according to your year and House. Head Boy and Head Girl…”

“I’m sorry, professor,” Astoria Greengrass interrupted her mid-sentence. “I don’t have a pair.”

Anya noticed some of the other Prefects were in the same situation; their same-year equal was missing, either because they had perished during the Battle or they were on the run with their families if they had been found fighting for the other side. She hadn’t noticed the amount of students who were missing from their dormitories; the other Prefects seemed to have been used to it by then and they paired up accordingly. Astoria ended up being the only Prefect without a dance partner.

“Bagman,” the headmistress pointed at Marcus, who was still standing next to the Slytherin girl. “You’ll be paired up with Greengrass. Rodríguez, you’ll be taking dance lessons from Professor Malfoy.”

Both Astoria and Marcus silently huffed, having ended up with the wrong dance partner, but stood face to face either way. Anya turned hesitantly to her side and saw Draco, who was taking off his suit jacket and rolling up his sleeves as if he didn’t care.

Anya couldn’t know it, but he was actually being so parsimonious to stop his hands from sweating.

“Follow your professor’s footsteps carefully,” McGonagall said, conjuring a chair and sitting on the outer side of the circle. “They will show you the basic steps and you will have to mimic them, if you please.”

Draco looked straight into Anya’s eyes and she had to do her best to keep a straight face. He offered her his hand, which she took, and then bowed courtly in front of her.

“The first step, as you can see, is the curtsy,” McGonagall narrated. “After that, the second step is the posture.”

She nodded at Draco, but his eyes were fixed on the Ravenclaw standing in front of him.

“May I?” he asked in a hushed voice.

Anya nodded and he took her right hand in his and placed it on his shoulder. He directed his right hand towards the curve of her waist and let it rest there, his thumb separated from the rest of his fingers that branded her lower back as if they had been heated atop burning coals. His left hand grabbed Anya’s and he slid his long fingers towards hers. She noticed how much longer his slender fingers were as they wrapped around her hand; how comfortable they felt and how they perfectly fit as if they had been designed out of the same mould as hers.

“Excellent posture, Rodríguez,” McGonagall said and Anya had to blink a few times to snap out of her trance. “Next, the basic steps. Professor Malfoy will lead and you will follow. Don’t forget to maintain eye contact at all times; it is not elegant to look at one’s feet while dancing.”

Anya forced herself to look up at her towering professor, whose eyes were fixed on hers. She didn’t need a signal from him; as soon as he took the first step forward, her body responded at once. He was counting under his breath for her, but her eyes were still on his and inside them, she could read all his emotions and guess which way to move next. She found dancing could be a very intuitive activity if done with the right person; his grey eyes looked silver under the natural light that illuminated the room and she could read the vulnerability behind them for the first time in her life. She stopped hearing his count or maybe he stopped counting, enthralled by her hazel eyes that shapeshifted under the beams of sun. They began moving their feet faster, gaining rhythm and following the melodies in their heads; Anya didn’t know what tune he was imagining, but for a moment she thought they were dancing to the same song. They flowed so easily, moved so swiftly with their feet barely brushing the tiled floor that she felt they were floating mid-air; or maybe even dancing over a pond, the tip of their shoes caressing its surface and creating ripples wherever they met.

She heard McGonagall’s distant voice, telling the rest of the Prefects to copy their exact movements, but she felt kilometres away. She was aware of the pressure of Draco’s hand on her hip, their slightly sweating hands tied to each other in an unbreakable grip and the scent of his perfume flooding her senses. The longer they moved, the more Anya became aware of his chest rapidly rising with his agitated breath and the air coming from his lungs causing the slightest sway in the hairs that escaped from behind her ears. A single icy blonde strand tickled the outer corner of his eye and he constantly moved it from his view by blowing it or shaking his head; he didn’t want to let go of her hand.

Their bubble burst when McGonagall spoke again: “Once the song’s over, you will have to curtsy again, this time as a way of thanking your partner for sharing a dance. Professor, please demonstrate.”

Draco took a step back and Anya realised she didn’t want the moment to end. He slithered both his hands away from his waist and her grip and she felt the shadow of his touch in the places he’d placed his fingers on. Draco hid his left arm behind his back and took Anya’s hand in his, his thumb gently brushing her knuckles. He moved it towards his lips and kissed it while he bowed, looking up at her as he did so. The corners of his mouth moved slightly upwards as he held her hand in place while she bent her knees only a few centimetres and briefly bowed her head as a sign of gratitude. They both straightened their backs and stood there, face to face, while the rest of the room slowly began reappearing around them.

“Magnificent work, Rodríguez,” the headmistress beamed from the side. “Thirty points for Ravenclaw.”

Anya couldn’t have cared if McGonagall had awarded her a thousand points for Ravenclaw. Once the adrenaline had settled, she felt her skin grow hot and she had to fight the urge to outline with her own hands the paths his fingers had traced on her skin so as to keep that feeling on her for as long as possible. Now that they were both aware of their surroundings, they stood awkwardly next to each other, feeling the heat from their own bodies merge into one huge bonfire that burned their skins and made their palms sweat.

“Now, everyone, pair up and practise for a few minutes, please,” the headmistress signalled and the next few minutes were a welcome time for Anya and Draco, whose confused thoughts were drowned out by the laughter and painful yelps that erupted from the different pairs.


	27. Blame It On My Active Imagination

_Anya took a sudden deep breath as she opened her eyes, realising she’d just woken up from a dream because she hadn’t been breathing properly. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and got up from her bed; when she looked down, she noticed she was wearing a burgundy dress instead of her usual night clothes. She didn’t think too much of it and walked out of her dormitory and out of her common room. She roamed the castle’s corridors, which were surprisingly empty, until she reached a wooden door with a silver plaque that she recognised perfectly. She didn’t remember the reason why she was there, but somehow she knew she had to go in._

_She opened the door without knocking and there he was, looking ghostly under the moonlight; Draco Malfoy, in the middle of his office, sitting on a big leather chair behind his desk and holding two inviting glasses of firewhiskey. Anya went in, closed the door behind her and locked it. She walked towards him and accepted one of the glasses, emptying the liquid in her mouth with a single sip. She placed it back on the desk and walked around the wooden desk, sliding her finger across the hard edges, until she reached the other side and leant against it, her knees just millimetres away from Draco’s. With a swift movement, he edged his chair closer and Anya’s legs were trapped between his. He looked at her from his seating position, at her mercy._

_“Why are you here?” he asked, his hand on his knee, too close to her skin._

_“I wanted to see you,” Anya replied, with newfound confidence._

_“What for?” he replied, his ring finger beginning to stroke the skin on her thigh._

_“I couldn’t sleep,” she answered, tightening up at his touch but bringing her leg closer to his fingers._

_Draco suddenly stood up, towering over her, his chest almost brushing hers. “And you were hoping I could help you get back to bed?”_

_Anya was about to answer but both his hands were perched on the desk at her sides, his eyes at the same height as hers as he slightly crouched, and she began to hear the beating of her heart in her ears. Draco sensed the change in her attitude and moved his hands closer, two of his left fingers making their way from her wrist upwards. His rings were mercilessly leaving cold trails on her skin and she could smell the powerful scent of the alcohol he had just ingested. His breath tickled her face and the hairs at the back of her neck stood up at his closeness. He stopped moving his fingers when he reached her shoulders, where they lingered drawing circles. His mouth flied up to her ear._

_“I didn’t hear your answer,” he whispered, his lower lip brushing her ear lobe and leaving a wet spot where his mouth met her skin._

_“That’s because I didn’t give you one,” Anya replied, in a hushed but firm tone._

_She wasn’t one to easily waver. She raised her own hand and traced the outlines of his face, from his earlobe to his chin. She slid it down to his neck, going over his Adam’s apple, and down to the first two undone buttons of his shirt. She lazily drew over his skin and felt him tense underneath her touch._

_She smiled, knowing how much power she held over him._

_It was her turn to lean into his ear then, their chests decidedly touching, and whispered in the same hushed tone: “But I don’t think you need it.”_

_She looked up at his hungry eyes, which were alternating between her eyes and her lips. Anya licked them in anticipation as Draco placed his on her neck, leaving soft kisses that turned harsher as they reached the curve below her jaw; he held her steadily in place with his hand on her neck, his fingers pressing on her veins and slowly blocking the blood flow to her brain. Anya’s hands were tangled in his blonde mane, using his hair strands as strings to direct her puppet’s moves._

_He pulled away, chest rising and pupils dilated, and headed straight for her mouth. But before he could collide his lips with hers, he jumped back and buried his face in his hands, screaming in agony._

_Anya took a step forward and grabbed him by the wrists, trying to calm him down. He suddenly looked up and she stumbled backwards, horrified: his face was no longer his, and it was alternating between her friends, her family and Hogwarts teachers. It finally stopped changing and turned into her deceased ex headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, whose eyes were hollow and pitch black. He opened his mouth and started speaking, with a voice that was certainly not his:_

_“Powerful magic comes with strenuous decisions_

_Which will earn the favour of the one seeking forgiveness_

_Or bring forgiveness to the one that has mistaken obedience for belief._

_The repentant child could right his wrongs_

_At the expense of losing the one thing he’d scarcely ever had._

_The worst betrayal_

_Will come from the least expected.”_

And then, she woke up.

A pair of grey eyes were looking at her from her side, as a gentle hand nudged her shoulder slightly.

“Sorry to wake you, Anya,” Luna said, with an apologetic smile. “Breakfast ends in twenty minutes and you ought to eat something before we head down to Potions.”

“Fuck, I overslept,” Anya replied, sitting on her bed and rubbing her eyes.

“It seems like you were dreaming,” her friend pointed out. “Was it a nice dream?”

Anya thought of the gruesome image of her professor’s face transforming into different people, his hollow eyes and his last words, which sounded like a dreadful prophecy. But then she remembered Draco’s hungry eyes, his fingers touching her skin, his mouth against her neck, the words he’d whispered in her ear…

“Yeah,” Anya replied as she got up. “For the most part it was.”

***

April brought a much needed fresh breath of spring. Students began replacing overcoats with light sweaters and the bravest ones even dared to start showing off their undershirts under the sun that reflected on the Black Lake and turned the whole world a shade brighter.

As everyone started going out more and more between classes and after lunch breaks, Anya and her friends started visiting more regularly the common spaces that were gradually being emptied of students. Between her Head Girl duties, her studying for the NEWTs, being once again Draco’s teaching assistant (after a few more pleasant encounters) and their regular visits to the library to gather information on Animagi (an idea Ari accepted to try, having exhausted every other option. He had profusely apologised to Ky and proceeded to follow her every direction in an attempt to find a solution), Anya barely had any time to think about anything else. On top of all that, she still snuck around to read about the Elder Wand, but with little success. She was beginning to believe there wasn’t any book that would help her unravel the secrets hidden beneath its wooden surface and she had started debating with herself whether she should ask for help. McGonagall was her first thought, of course, but there was something about the conversation she’d had with Draco about her knowing their whereabouts the night Andromeda and Teddy had been attacked that made her refrain from sharing that information; she did trust her, but she’d rather exhaust any other possibility before resorting to anyone else. She didn’t want to think about it, but she was getting a little nervous; she was only two months and a half away from her last day at Hogwarts and hadn’t accomplished anything yet. And she was also a bit worried about the prophetical verses she had heard Dumbledore say in her dream.

Anya knew she wouldn’t be able to deal with seeing Draco after she dreamt about a situation she wasn’t aware she had been subconsciously thinking about, so early on Wednesday morning she sent him an owl excusing herself from helping him, claiming she had to study for her NEWTs, which wasn’t a complete lie: she did have to study, but she knew she’d easily get back on track had she spent the afternoon helping him. She would see him again on Monday, so she’d have plenty of time to try not to think about the dream she so vividly remembered (although she knew she _didn’t_ want to forget, but she knew she couldn’t be thinking about it).

Wednesday afternoon found her in the library again, accompanied by her five friends. They’d decided to go as soon as their last lesson ended, to browse one of the last sections of the library they hadn’t yet searched in their quest to investigate how to become an Animagus. Their eyes were red and sore, their backs hurt and there wasn’t a single book that explained what they needed to do. It was advanced magic, way more difficult than their NEWT levels lessons, and they didn’t know who to ask to avoid raising suspicion; once McGonagall was asked about that same thing, and she quickly shut the idea off, telling the students that the last time she’d given out information on Animagi, it had ended up with three students becoming unregistered shapeshifters.

They had decided to take a break to study for their upcoming classes, which were getting harder and harder, being only a few weeks away from their final exams. While Ginny, Ari and Ky were testing each other on recent magical regulation decrees, Luna was absorbed in her Charms book and Marcus and Anya were each writing an essay on the healing properties of different plants, which they would then exchange to correct the other’s words. Some seventh years approached their table occasionally to ask Marcus and Anya some questions regarding different subjects, which they answered patiently until they were sure the other understood.

An hour and a half later they were roaming the library again, searching for the last available books that weren’t in the Restricted Section (which they had already checked, with Flitwick’s permission, and had led to nothing) in hopes of finding at least one paragraph that talked about the complicated bit of magic they were trying to perform. There was nothing. Defeated, they decided to leave the last section for the following day, claiming they were all tired; deep down, each of them knew they wanted to postpone the inevitability of finally realising they had failed.

Anya’s friends left after a few minutes, trying to get early to the clock tower courtyard and get good seats to witness the last duel in the Duelling Competition held by Flitwick and the Duelling Club; they had already an on-going bet on who would win and Ginny and Marcus had been discussing it all week. Anya stayed back, promising she’d get there on time, but first she had to sit for a moment and plan out her study schedule for the week. She gathered her things fifteen minutes later and left the library, giving Madame Pince a warm smile which was, surprisingly, returned.

Anya took her time to get to her dormitory, not being particularly keen on watching the duel; she’d had more than enough of those during the Battle. But she knew she’d promised it to her friends and they would probably be saving her a seat so, reluctantly, dropped her things off on her bed and headed out of her common room. Just as she was about to reach the Great Hall, she heard the sound of something heavy being dragged through the floor and a sharp voice shouting orders. She sighed and followed the sound, hoping nobody was doing anything too illegal that would make her waste much time.

“Those go over there, guys! Move that a little to the left for me, darling, thank you,” she heard the voice and immediately recognised it.

She turned the corner and saw Fred, hovering over a sweating group of students who were the ones behind the noise.

“Fred? What’s going on?” Anya asked, startling the ghost.

“Oh, hey Anya. These lovely chaps were in the middle of constructing my shrine when I realised something was odd and decided to help. Who better to build a memorial than the dead person himself, am I right?”

Anya paid attention to their actions and realised they were moving Fred’s pictures, pieces of clothing and other tokens to the back of the shrine and instead, displaying on the front row all sorts of mischievous Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes’ sweets and artefacts.

“Have to help out Georgie in any way that I can,” he simply stated, his hands in his pockets as he watched the dutiful students who were moving things around. “Besides, my true legacy is mischief. It’s always been.”

Anya couldn’t help but laugh at the bizarre sight of seeing Fred directing his own memorial’s arrangements. But then again, she was glad he was around so Ginny would have one less thing to be sad about that night.

She left after a few minutes and took a few steps towards the courtyard’s entrance before crashing into someone who came unexpectedly from the corridor to her left.

She looked up and her hands started sweating and her words died in her throat.

“ _Please ignore me, please ignore me, please ignore me,”_ she thought.

“Oh, hello Anya. I thought you were studying,” said Draco Malfoy, as he nonchalantly held her arm and helped her stabilise herself.

“Hello, Draco! Yes, I was, but I finished a couple of minutes ago and I was about to meet my mates who’re in the courtyard,” she answered, feeling his hand burn through her clothes.

_The same hands that had choked her roughly in her dream._

“Yeah, I heard there’s a duel going on right now,” he said, making polite conversation. “I hope I’m not making you late.”

“Oh, no, don’t worry, I was late anyway. I stayed at the library, catching up on some reading,” she replied, gulping as he absently wetted his lips.

_The same lips that had created a trail that followed her shoulder up to her lobe and then grunted in her ear._

“What were you reading about? Maybe I can help, although I don’t think you’ll need it,” he offered, brushing his hair with his hand to keep strands of hair from getting in his eyes.

_The same hair she’d had her hands buried in, the same hair she’d pulled to draw him closer to her._

“Oh, just…” she began saying, and stopped halfway when her mind went blank thanks to all the intrusive thoughts that threatened to make her lose focus again.

She shook herself mentally and an idea sprung to her clouded head. “I was reading about Animagi. It’s a great interest of mine but I haven’t found any books in the library that can tell me much about their characteristics and how to turn into one. You wouldn’t happen to have any books on that, would you?”

He leant on the wall and squinted his eyes, going over his book inventory in his head. He was so effortlessly beautiful, the kind of beauty that made people turn their heads and he wouldn’t even notice. His posture seemed relaxed, a rare sight, and his muscles flexed under his tight black shirt, which made Anya wonder whether he’d be able to carry her weight while she clutches onto his body with her legs and…

“Anya?” he called her name, a confused look on his face.

“Huh?” she replied, blinking twice to cast her immoral thoughts aside.

“I called your name and you didn’t listen,” he said. “Are you alright?”

“Oh, yeah, I just remembered a dream I had,” she said and immediately regretted it.

“Was it a good dream?” he asked, interested.

“Can’t say it wasn’t,” she replied, fighting the blush that was threatening to colour her cheeks.

He smiled and repeated himself: “As I was saying, I recall having bought a book of the sort, but I’ll have to check whether I still have it. I’ll let you know if I find it.”

“That’d be great, Draco, thank you so much,” she replied, trying to act as if she hadn’t been just imagining him in compromising positions. “I have to go now, but let me know if you find anything, okay?”

“Certainly,” he replied, smiling at her again. “I’ll see you in class, I hope.”

Anya smiled back and nodded. He began walking towards one of the corridors, and she had to go into one of the bathrooms to wash her hot face and regain her composure before meeting her friends. She tried telling herself she had to forget the dream, she even thought about erasing her own memory so those images could stop being embedded in her mind all day long.

But the truth was, she didn’t want to stop thinking about it. The only part she wished she could cast aside was that odd prophecy, which she knew she’d probably have to think about, but she was a teenage girl after all and it wasn’t exactly something that would keep her awake at night, at least for the moment.

Although she would learn that the first part of the dream would roam freely through her mind, especially when she was laying on her bed at night.


	28. The Victors' Ball

The Ball had been the least of Anya’s worries up until that same day, when she found herself standing in front of the mirror having no idea what she’d wear that night. Finding a partner hadn’t been difficult at all, seeing as the same day it was announced, right when they were leaving the Great Hall from their dance lessons, Marcus had asked her to be his date. She had agreed on the spot, looking forward to spending the whole night with her friends. That cost Marcus ten points for Gryffindor, seeing as he accidentally stepped on Draco’s newly polished shoes on his way to ask her friend out; the both were still standing together, although only making small talk. It had been worth every point for the Gryffindor boy, who left the room with a big smile on his face, and for the Ravenclaw girl too, who found an excuse to part from her professor and the awkward conversation they were both too polite to shut off.

She hadn’t thought about it since, although it seemed to be the one thing everyone talked about after its announcement. And with it, came Anya’s favourite part: witnessing the reactions to being asked to the Ball. Marcus had had to kindly reject at least six different girls during the first day and Anya laughed each time to herself, seeing the awkward faces they made when Marcus said she was his date. She knew he’d had to reject a number of other people during the following days; he started to ask his friends to accompany him everywhere, just to discourage further ambushes. Anya had been asked by some people too, including Noora, a beautiful sixth year Ravenclaw she’d already snogged, who she had to turn down not only because she already had a date but because she wasn’t very good at concealing her emotions when she had feelings for someone and she didn’t feel like being harassed; and Silvanus Rosier, who she knew to be one of Ari’s aggressors and refused his invitation by enlarging his tongue to the point where he had to carry it between his hands in order to be able to properly walk.

Ky and Ari, unsurprisingly, were going together and Ky had already sewn a handkerchief the same colour as her dress for Ari to wear in his jacket’s front pocket. What came as a surprise were Ginny and Luna: the Gryffindor girl kept politely declining invitations left and right, to a point where she had said “no” to at least seventeen people. When asked why was it that she didn’t say yes to anyone, she never gave a straight answer. Luna, on the other hand, hadn’t said a thing but, five days before the Ball, announced to their friends that she’d be going with Henry Abbott, who was a sixth year Slytherin, and had asked her to be his date during Advanced Herbology. Ginny remained silent for the rest of the day and went to breakfast the following morning, followed by an astounded Harry Macmillan, who dropped her off with her friends at the Ravenclaw table and claimed his seat on the Hufflepuff one; he sat down while his friends cheered, a broad smile still taking up half his face, not being able to believe how lucky he’d got.

“Which of these dresses are you going to wear?” Luna asked from behind, bringing her back to reality.

“I don’t know yet, I’m still deciding,” Anya replied as she turned around to face the choice she had to make.

On her bed laid three different dresses; one simple, black silk dress, one sequinned blue dress, skin-tight and backless and the one that had most drawn her eye when she first saw it: a burgundy strapless dress, with a tight corset and a slit on the right side that left almost her entire right leg uncovered. It had many layers and, despite how much fabric the lower part had, it was actually very comfortable to wear.

She made the decision in a split second. She grabbed the last dress, hung it from her bed’s frame and headed to the bathroom, where Luna and her spent an hour getting ready.

Ten minutes before eight o’clock, the Ravenclaws descended the stairs of their dormitory grabbing the railing and lifting the hems of their dresses to avoid stepping on them. Luna was on Anya’s left side, looking as ethereal as ever in her deep green, translucent dress, but the grey in her eyes was the colour of lead and they felt just as heavy. Marcus and Henry were waiting at the bottom of the stairs, engaging in polite conversation, and they both looked up when they noticed the two friends.

Marcus’s eyes widened and glimmered under the faint light. “Wow, Anya, you look... absolutely breath-taking.”

Anya kissed his cheek. “You don’t look too bad yourself. And look! It has pockets.”

Marcus laughed, kissed her temple and slid his arm around her shoulder. The four went down the stairs and into the Great Hall; before going in, the Gryffindor changed the colour of his tie to match Anya’s dress, earning a smile from his companion.

They sat in their designated table, which had four extra empty chairs for their friends and Ginny’s date. Anya marvelled at the decorations, which looked ethereal under the thousands of floating candles that burned in different colours. The four tables had been removed and instead, a thousand smaller tables of eight were scattered around the room, leaving empty space in the middle for dancing. Vines covered the walls and little fairies and bowtruckles were perched upon the leaves. The professors’ table remained in place, covered by a white and silver mantelpiece that had stars that shone every few seconds; most professors were already sitting, but Anya surveyed the seats and realised Draco wasn’t there. She realised, with a bit of a heavy heart, that she didn’t know whether he’d be going to be there at all.

Ten minutes later, almost everyone was seated and the chatter filled the air in what everyone expected to be a night full of eating, dancing and enjoying each other’s presence. Ginny, his date, Ari and Ky had already arrived and they were as excited as the rest of the students. Luna and Ginny sat in opposite ends of the table and weren’t speaking to each other, which Anya found odd, but decided not to comment.

Soon enough, their menus appeared in front of them and the options for the first dish of the night with it. They each spoke to the piece of parchment, reciting their order, and their food appeared in front of their eyes. Anya would never get tired of Hogwarts’ food and she knew she’d miss it dearly after she’d left the school.

Their plates were cleared and everyone was summoned to the centre of the room, where the instruments had been enchanted to play a slow tune. McGonagall started dancing first, hand in hand with Slughorn, and the students promptly followed, showcasing the swift dance moves they’d learnt from their professors. Marcus bowed in front of Anya and when he had lowered his head, she saw Draco sitting at the professors’ table right behind him and their eyes met. He winked and raised his glass and she smiled at him before looking back at her friend, who was offering his hand.

With each turn they took, Anya got a perfect excuse to observe her professor without the fear of being too obvious. He was wearing black and green formal robes that resembled the suit he wore every day. His tie matched the colour in his eyes and he was leaning back in his chair, a sleek glass in his hand. The stars in the mantelpiece reflected on his drink and his silver rings, making his eyes momentarily glow. Every time she looked his way, he was looking right back at her. It soon turned into a game where each of them would try to catch the other one staring and smile when they succeeded; more than once Marcus asked her what was so funny, but she just smiled and kept on dancing.

It was time for the second plate of food to appear in front of their eyes and they had to rest for a few minutes before heading back to the dance floor. Anya sensed Marcus’s mood change right after their first dance, so she made everything in her power to focus solely on him and dance to the upbeat song the live band was playing. She noticed he was happier, too, after their friends joined them and they danced together in a circle. She had to stop her eyes from wandering away in more than one occasion and she found it was a task harder than it should’ve been; she was Marcus’s date, after all, and she liked him. Why was it so hard to concentrate on the dance floor and not on the set of grey eyes that were scanning her from the other side of the room?

The room began getting hotter as they kept on dancing, hands on hips, arms swaying and hairs entangling in one sole moving mass that absorbed all the energy from the music and kept on moving. They had just stopped to catch their breath after “Can You Dance Like a Hippogriff?” by The Weird Sisters ended and then, Anya heard the first chords of “Smells Like Teen Spirit” by Nirvana; there was a moment of confusion, since that was the first Muggle song played that night. She instinctively looked at Draco, who was casually leaning against the record player; she caught him as he was putting away his wand and when they locked eyes, he blinked at her and stood there, smiling, while he watched her dance.

She looked at Ari, who always enjoyed jumping around to rock songs, and noticed he was clutching his heart while holding on to Ky’s and Harry Macmillan’s arms as they tried their best not to let him fall to the ground. Anya got closer to him, her heart thumping loudly with fear, and noticed his shirt was soaked with sweat and his eyes were tightly shut. He was biting his lip so hard that he drew blood and it was then when they realised the excruciating pain he must’ve been in. Ginny and Luna quickly waved their dates goodbye and they all walked quickly behind Ky and Marcus, who each had one of Ari’s arms over their shoulders and were walking him out of the Great Hall. The lights were dim enough that no one noticed anything was wrong.

“We have to take him to the hospital wing,” Luna said in a concerned tone.

“No,” Ari replied, trying his best to sound normal. “It’ll stop hurting.”

“Let’s take him to his common room, assess the damage and then decide,” Ginny said, her practical leadership skills shutting them all up.

They hurried towards the dungeons, Ari muttered the password and they all got in. Ky and Marcus laid him gently over the cushions and she began to unbutton his shirt to reveal what was underneath.

Anya thought she’d be sick. Weeks before, there had been a small, darker area circling his heart; as they removed his shirt, the same hue had spread all around his chest and some had started climbing up his neck. And in the exact place where his beating heart lay, underneath his skin, there were burn marks in odd shapes, some bandaged and some a lighter tone as the skin tried to regenerate, too slow to compete with the fire that was eating their friend from the inside.

“Bloody hell,” Ginny exclaimed.

“It’s got worse, the last couple of weeks,” Ari responded, weakly.

“We can fucking see that,” Marcus replied in a strangled voice.

“You gormless git!” Ky shouted, but decided halfway that she shouldn’t be so harsh to her dying boyfriend, so she lowered her voice to an almost silent whimper. “Why didn’t you say it had got this bad?”

“I didn’t want you all to think there was no hope so you would keep on researching,” he replied, wiping his sweat off his forehead.

“Bollocks,” Ky replied. “We won’t stop trying to find a cure.”

They sat around their friend, who had convinced them not to take him to Madame Pomfrey as he rightfully argued that she wouldn’t be able to cure him either. It took several minutes, but finally he could sit up with some help and they took him to his bed, where Ky stayed with him. They all exited the common room, silently, and decided to return to the Great Hall to grab some dessert for their friend and try to enjoy the last hour of dancing, although they thought it highly unlikely.

Just as they were about to enter the room, Anya saw Draco flash past her, looking as mad as she’d ever seen him. He was holding his wand with such strength that his knuckles had turned even whiter. She told her friends she’d be going to the restroom and, when she’d lost sight of them, followed her professor towards the edge of the forest, where she could easily distinguish his blonde hair against the pitch black dark of the night. Anya removed her shoes, cast a silent charm on her feet and followed him across leafy paths. He stopped a few metres away from her; she found a thick tree trunk and hid behind it while he waited.

After a few silent minutes, she heard the unmistakeable sound of someone apparating nearby and ducked, careful not to get the hem of her dress near any branches that could tear it and give away her location. Draco walked a few steps forward and drew his wand, pointing at whoever had just appeared in front of his eyes and was hiding in the shadows. His whole face was contorted in rage and his hand slightly trembled as he kept pointing forward.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” he shouted.

Anya heard a low and smooth voice responding, but she wasn’t close enough to hear properly. The other person talked in a hushed, whispered voice she couldn’t distinguish from the wind that blew around them.

“Keep your fucking wand in your pocket if you know what’s good for you,” he hissed as he took a step back.

The other voice spoke again, and the only way Anya could tell was by Draco’s silence. His whole body was shaking and she thought she’d had to step in eventually to keep him from killing whoever was in front of him.

“Sod off,” Draco responded. “You’ve never cared about my well-being; you were never selfless enough.”

As he fell silent again, Anya noticed a shift in his attitude towards the other person; he quickly straightened up and started breathing heavily, trying to contain his own anger.

“I owe you nothing,” he stated, in a tone so cold Anya felt shivers down her spine. “You have the nerve to come here and claim I’m in your debt? For what? Are you taking the piss?”

The other person must’ve been saying something, but he was quickly interrupted by an abrupt movement on Draco’s behalf; his body trembled with rage as he strode forward and all Anya could hear from her hiding spot was his fist colliding against a hard surface; she was convinced she’d heard the sound of the bones inside the other person’s nose break under her professor’s knuckles. Her curiosity got the best of her and she stayed there, crouching behind the leaves.

Draco took a step back and looked at his mysterious interlocutor. “You haven’t changed in the slightest. You deserve to be thrown in Azkaban for everything you’ve done. Attacking Teddy and Andromeda was a low blow, even for bloody scum like yourself.”

He paused for a few seconds, but raised his voice to interrupt the other person’s monologue: “I don’t want to hear it. How did you know I’d been visiting them?”

“…”

“Keep Anya out of this, don’t you dare speak her fucking name. I don’t know how you know her, but this is between you and me,” he quickly responded and Anya’s heart gave a leap.

“…”

“Bollocks. There’s no way anyone could’ve seen us. Do you have someone at Hogwarts who’s spying for you?”

Anya was eager to hear the following part of the dialogue, but she suddenly felt something buzzing nearby. Afraid some creature had slipped in her dress, she quietly tried to shake off the feeling but it remained; it was coming from her right hip.

She buried her hand in her dress’s pockets and felt the source of the buzzing. She took it out and had to cover her mouth when she realised she was holding the Elder Wand, which was vibrating uncontrollably while it pointed forward with a dim glow coming from the tip. She tried to stop it with her own wand, but it was impossible. She looked towards Draco, hoping he hadn’t noticed, but he wasn’t there anymore.

She was about to get up when she heard the rustle of leaves to her right. She shifted her head and saw Draco, tumbling out of the forest, his face still reflecting anger. And then, she looked down at her own hand when she felt the Elder Wand buzzing again; she noticed that with every step Draco took, the wand moved a little towards the edge of the forest with him.

It was following his moves; it had been all along. It had appeared inside her pocket and pointed at him until he was out of sight. Had it been a warning sign?

She resolved to go back to the castle and think about it later; she already had too much on her mind. Considering Draco would probably go back to the castle through the clock tower courtyard, she decided to go through a side entrance that led to a small garden that not many students knew of. She stepped through the opening in the wall and was surprised to see Draco there, sitting on one of the stone benches and looking at the small pond in front of him. There were lights floating in the air, which Anya suspected to be fireflies, and she could hear the faint sound of music coming from the Great Hall.

She hadn’t realised she had been staring until he turned around and fixed his eyes on her. “Good night, Anya, I didn’t see you there.”

“That’s okay, I didn’t think anyone knew about this place. I needed some air,” she replied, taking a few steps closer to him.

The silver owl necklace Marcus had gifted her stood out against her skin and the pendant rested on her cleavage, reflecting the lights as it moved every time she took a breath; Draco managed to keep his eyes fixed on hers.

“Me too,” he replied.

“Bad night?”

“You could say that,” he answered, with a tone of resentment Anya wouldn’t have picked up if she hadn’t witnessed the scene that unfolded just a few minutes before.

Anya looked down at his hands and realised his right one was bruised and bleeding; he must’ve punched harder than she thought initially. He noticed she was staring and quickly hid his hand from view, standing up.

“I fell down the stairs, it was pretty mortifying,” he answered.

Anya couldn’t restrain herself: she stepped forward and took his hand in hers, examining the damage from up close. She took out her wand and, before Draco’s confused stare, she began healing his cuts to the best of her abilities. A few seconds later, the hand still looked bruised but it had stopped bleeding and his knuckles looked less swollen, too.

“Thank you,” he muttered, his hand still in hers.

They didn’t speak for a while, their eyes unable to look away. They were only centimetres away, their hearts beating so fast they were certain the other could hear the loud thumps in their chests.

Draco cleared his throat. “I should go back to my room, bandage my hand.”

“Yes, that’s a good idea,” Anya replied.

Their hands were still intertwined; with a swift movement, Draco contorted his hand and grabbed Anya’s. He took it towards his lips and placed a kiss on her knuckles that made her knees weaken.

“Goodnight,” he said, as he lowered his hand.

But before his fingers had slipped completely out of her reach, their tips still touching, he looked at her and smiled.

“You look beautiful, Anya.”

And with that, he left her alone in the garden. Anya had to sit down to stop her heart from jumping out of her chest. She reminisced of his lips against her knuckles, the same way he’d kissed them a month before when they had been practising for the Ball.

While she was seating on her secret garden, the music growing fainter on the Great Hall, she hoped that kiss meant it was the beginning of their dance and not the end of it.


	29. The Art of Avoidance (And How to Fail Miserably)

The day that followed the Ball was, luckily, a Saturday, and the elves down in the kitchen took pity on the students and served breakfast for an extra two hours, giving the tired and hungover a chance to sleep for a little longer.

Anya had decided to go up to her dormitory only a few minutes after her encounter with Draco; she’d returned to her friends, still overwhelmed, and claimed she was tired and wanted to go to bed. Marcus had accompanied her back to her room and when Anya asked him whether he’d return to the Ball, he’d said he was going to bed as well. Before he disappeared around the corner, Anya hesitated for a second and then called his name; she didn’t know then that she’d wake up the following day full of regret.

She was overwhelmed with the realisation that her best friend didn’t have much time left; she was confused, angry, sad and a general mixture of many others feelings she still didn’t comprehend. But she also didn’t like what she had felt the night of the Ball when she encountered Draco. She didn’t like how she felt after dreaming about him. She didn’t like remembering his touch, his hand on hers, his grey eyes reading her like an open book when they danced together. She knew it was wrong in so many ways and still found herself wanting more. And it made her sick to her stomach. So in hopes of forgetting him, she asked Marcus to stay with her that night. They went to the Room of Requirements, which appeared in front of their eyes as a comfortable bedroom with a single bed; Anya didn’t know whether it had read Marcus’s thoughts or her own, but she tried to convince herself that was what she wanted.

She didn’t feel bad for sleeping with someone; she felt bad because it was him. He undressed her with the delicacy of someone who’s holding their most valued possession, as if her skin were made of marble and he wanted nothing more than to recognise every single curve and dent in her body. He murmured in her ear everything he wanted to do to her and asked for her consent; whenever Anya said yes, he would take the sounds her mouth emitted as an incentive to compose a melody only she knew how to dance to. He kissed her up and down her legs, her torso and her neck and made sure every time his lips touched her skin was unique; the sky at night is not twice the same, and he left marks on her skin that made her feel nocturnal. The darker it got, the more complex the constellations he drew. He touched with the familiarity of someone who’d embraced many others before, but the tips of his fingers felt brand new against her feverish skin; as if he had only been practising for that exact moment, when their bodies lay together and his hands roamed freely through the length of her body. And when she had asked for more, he complied; his hands gripped tighter, his body moved faster and he didn’t complain when Anya left marks on his shoulders.

The only reason Anya had been able to fall asleep was out of exhaustion and the liquor they’d found in the Room of Requirements as soon as they had entered. She woke up the following day wrapped inside Marcus’s arms, his brown curls splattered on the pillow and his peaceful breathing making the hair at the back of her neck sway with every breath. She carefully lifted his arm and got away from his embrace, dressing up in a pair of trousers and a sweater she found in a drawer. She returned to her dormitory, neatly hung her dress and proceeded to take a bath so she could kill some time before breakfast began to get served. She looked at Luna’s bed and found it untouched; she hoped she hadn’t returned to their bedroom at all so she wouldn’t have to think of an excuse as to why she hadn’t slept there.

It was finally seven in the morning when she went down the stairs and into the Great Hall, a book in hand and longing for a cup of warm tea. She wasn’t the only early riser, but the few other students that were sitting on the tables were silent, either reading the newspaper or drinking unsafe amounts of coffee in an attempt to stay awake. She was glad to find herself sitting alone at the end of the Ravenclaw table and be able to eat the freshly baked pastries and warm loafs of bread that appeared in front of her eyes as soon as she sat down. She was even happier when she looked up at the professors’ table and didn’t see Draco sitting there; she wouldn’t have known how to react if she had. She wasn’t in the mood to see her friends, either, or having to endure their jokes about her and Marcus.

Anya sat peacefully for another hour before she had to get up and leave, seeing as more and more students were going down for breakfast and she didn’t want to run into her friends. She knew she’d had to eventually, but escaping difficult conversations until she was forced to face them was her specialty. She was about to go to her garden (“ _Our_ garden,” she gloomily thought), the only place she knew her friends wouldn’t find her, but stopped midway; she knew it wasn’t likely, but what if Draco felt like going to a quiet place as well and they met again? She didn’t know which idea she hated more: the idea of seeing him or the fact that she almost went to her garden only because she secretly hoped she would run into him and wouldn’t have to look for an excuse to see him again. She had to stop herself, once again. She couldn’t be thinking about her professor that way, especially not while she was supposed to be on a mission, getting closer to him only to uncover his secrets.

She resolved to turn the other way and started walking towards the school grounds, which would be empty so early in the morning. As she neared the entrance, she recognised the shape of a man standing just outside the doors; she felt relieved when she noticed his hair was too dark to be Draco’s.

Just seconds before she reached him, he turned around and smiled at her.

“Harry! What a surprise to see you here,” Anya greeted him as she leant for a quick embrace. “What are you doing here?”

“Order business,” he responded, with the same mysterious aura that always surrounded his words when he spoke about his secret tasks. “I would have guessed you’d be having breakfast with your friends. Are they in the Great Hall? Maybe I could swing by and say hello.”

Anya noticed he was trying to sound casual, but she could see right through the hopelessly romantic boy; he had been trying to win back Ginny’s affection ever since he returned after the Battle, but he didn’t know the whole story. For instance, and this even Anya didn’t know, he was unaware of the fact that his loved one was sleeping in the Gryffindor common room, curled up in a corner of her single bed because the other half of the mattress was occupied by another person. He couldn’t possibly know (and their friends couldn’t either, since Ky and Ari had slept in the Slytherin common room and Marcus and Anya, in the Room of Requirements) that, after their friends had left the dance floor, Luna and Ginny had stayed behind with their dates, which they promptly got rid of claiming they needed to leave urgently because they had “girl problems”; the two clueless boys didn’t argue and left immediately, leaving the two girls giggling and drinking the last of the butterbeer on their tables. And then, when there were only eight couples and a few other students left, they slipped away into one of the darkest corners of the room just when Luna’s favourite ballad (“Don’t Blame It On The Love Potions” by Spellbound) started playing and, being shielded by the darkness, danced together in a way they would’ve never dared to dance in front of any other people. All forgotten, they decided to go to Ginny’s dormitory before her roommates returned and closed the drapes in her four poster bed, casually casting a silencing spell.

“They’re all still sleeping,” she replied, unaware of their whereabouts. “I wanted to have a peaceful morning for once.”

“Tell me about it,” Harry replied, leaning against the wooden frame and looking in the direction of the Black Lake. “We could all use a little bit of boring routines for a while.”

Anya smiled and she too stepped outside, closing her eyes and letting the sun rays engulf her skin. She found herself reminiscing about the night of the Ball, but she suddenly remembered the other half of the night; the part where she chased Draco through the forest and overheard his conversation, right before the Elder Wand appeared inside her pocket.

And then, it occurred to her. If there was someone who’d know about the intriguing magical artefact, it would be Harry; he had not only owned the wand, he had been the only known Master of Death and the person who’d researched the Deathly Hallows in more depth that anyone else she knew.

“Harry? Can I ask you a question?” she inquired, squinting her eyes to look at him.

“Of course,” he replied, turning his body towards her. His bright, green eyes glittered under the sunbeams and his warm smile encouraged her to ask what she needed to know.

“I was wondering if you could tell me what you know about the Elder Wand,” she replied.

Harry’s stance stiffened and Anya was almost certain he wouldn’t answer her question. But he just relaxed once again and started speaking:

“I don’t know much about it, if I ought to be honest. I know it was the most powerful wand in existence, the destruction it left behind and how it could be passed on between owners,” he said, absentmindedly scratching the scar on his forehead. “Dumbledore was the one who knew all about it. He just never shared all of his secrets with me.”

He looked back at Anya and noticed her disappointment, so he quickly added with a smile: “But we don’t have to worry about that bloody thing now, I destroyed it after the Battle and its powers are gone forever.”

Anya had to return the smile, wishing he knew that was the furthest thing from the truth. But until she found out more about it, she’d have to keep it a secret.

“Why do you ask?” Harry questioned, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Oh, you know,” Anya answered, trying to come up with a reasonable excuse. “I’ve been reading about it to help Dr—Professor Malfoy, and I haven’t found much information, that’s all.”

She hoped her excuse was credible enough and expected to see understanding in Harry’s features, but instead she was met with more confusion and distrust.

“Malfoy?” he asked, still frowning. “What are you helping him for?”

“For the…” Anya was about to say, but then looked around to make sure no one was listening; was she allowed to talk about the Order so openly? “The _thing_ with _Dumbledore’s society_.”

She emphasised the words she needed him to understand, hoping he’d comprehend what she was trying to say. She didn’t think it was too complicated to grasp, but was met once again with Harry’s confusion.

“What in the world are you talking about?” he asked, amused. “You must be knackered from yesterday’s Ball; you’re talking absolute nonsense.”

Anya looked incredulously at the bespectacled boy who seemed just as confused as herself.

“Harry,” she carefully added, lowering the tone of her voice to a whisper. “I’m talking about the Order.”

“Yeah, that much I’ve gathered,” he answered, sarcastically. “I didn’t fail third grade reading comprehension, thank you very much.”

“I’m painfully aware,” Anya added. “Thank God you had Hermione by your side or you would’ve died way sooner than you did.”

Harry rolled his eyes and playfully pushed her arm. “You like to think you’re so funny, Rodríguez, you’re lucky we all like you enough to pretend to laugh at your jokes.”

“At least I don’t need to flash a scar for people to actually believe me when I say I’m amazing.”

“You can’t be that great if you have to brag about it so much,” Harry replied with a smile on his lips.

“Sod off, Potter,” Anya replied, unable to contain her laughter any longer.

They both laughed together and for a moment, Anya forgot all about her problems and the thoughts that had been troubling her. It had been so long since she had seen Harry relaxed, laughing, not watching his back in case there was someone trying to get to him.

“Let’s be serious for a moment here,” he said, still the shadow of a smile lingering on his lips. “What _thing_ were you talking about that involved Malfoy?”

“The task the Order gave me, of course,” she replied. “Maybe your scar _is_ still affecting you.”

Harry smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I literally have no idea what you’re on about.”

Anya stopped for a moment to think. Was her mission such a secret that even Harry didn’t know about it? It seemed bizarre to her, seeing as Harry was practically the one who managed everything Order-related. But maybe they didn’t want to tell him because of his already existent rivalry with the blonde-haired professor; maybe they thought he could put up some kind of resistance or his feelings would get in the way.

She resolved she’d ask McGonagall about it. “You know what? I got absolutely plastered last night. I didn’t want you to be right, but I actually have no idea what I’m talking about either.”

Harry laughed again. “You’re so odd, Anya, d’you know that?”

“I was sure you’d be used to it by now,” she replied, and all was forgotten.

After they’d had enough of the sun, which was glowing brightly above their heads, they both went back into the castle, said their goodbyes and parted their ways. Sleep was finally catching up to her, after having slept only a couple of hours, and she had just decided to go back to her room and sleep through lunch when she ran into Draco.

“Anya! Just the person I was looking for! I hope you’re not too busy?” he said, walking up to her.

“I was about to have a kip actually,” she replied, in hopes he would let her leave and she didn’t have to face him after the previous night’s events.

“This won’t take long, don’t worry,” he replied, clearly unaware of the true meaning behind her words. “It’s about that book on Animagi we talked about, I found it. You can borrow it if you want.”

Anya’s ears suddenly perked at the mention of the book and she forgot she had ever been tired. “That would be lovely, thank you so much.”

She looked at him eagerly, waiting for him to take the book out of his pocket; instead, he turned around and started walking the other way.

“Follow me, it’s in my office,” he said, and he marched away.


	30. An Encounter

_Déjà vu, déjà vecu._ Already seen, already lived. Anya’s heart gave a leap as she walked the too familiar path towards Draco’s office and went through the doors and into the place she had been dreaming about for the last few weeks.

She awkwardly leant against his desk while he kneeled in front of his wooden vault and looked for the book he had promised. Every now and then he’d huff or simply mutter “it was right here this morning” and it went on for five more minutes. He finally stood back up and with a triumphant grin, handed Anya the leather-bound book.

It was small and had golden letters on the cover that read its title, but other than that there were no other signs that could’ve possibly made the group of friends find such a tiny book in the middle of all the others. She eagerly opened it and started skimming through the ancient pages, which had turned yellow with time. She smiled as she kept on reading and realised all the information they needed was just right there. She finally had a glimpse of hope for a better future for her best friend, the first real silver lining after so much darkness.

She looked up at Draco, who had sat beside her on the desk, and saw him smiling as he watched her marvel at the gift he’d just presented to her.

She couldn’t think of anything else to do; she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hugged him, burying her face in his chest. He was taken aback by her reaction but hugged her back promptly. His strong arms shielded her from the outside and Anya could’ve stayed like that forever. His hands were awkwardly placed on her back, but as the hug went on, he relaxed and started rubbing his thumbs on her skin. He calmly shifted his body in her direction, so that she could be more comfortable and he could wrap his arms around her even tighter.

Anya finally let go and immediately looked to her feet, mortified, not knowing how to look at him in the eye after her emotions had got the best of her.

Draco simply cleared his throat: “If I had known how much the book meant to you, I would’ve given it to you sooner.”

Anya looked at him from the corner of her eye and saw him smiling, a warm, unfamiliar smile she wished she could see more often.

She couldn’t believe herself. She had always been a composed person, the one that thought things through before doing them and had everything sharply calculated beforehand because she didn’t like making mistakes or improvising. Despite being a sensitive person (who had an inclination for writing poetry but would never let her words see the light of day), she felt more at ease being able to calculate her feelings as if they were equations, trying to rationalise whatever she might feel as to not get too caught up in her own world.

But there was something about Draco that she couldn’t comprehend. Something about him and his cloud-coloured eyes, his slender fingers and his pink lips that made her unable to form a single coherent thought when in his presence and she hated him for it; she hated not feeling in control. She hated knowing she was failing the task she had been assigned because her heart was beginning to get in the way of what she needed to do, but what she hated the most was the fact that she was allowing it to happen.

“I’m sorry, I got a bit carried away there,” she replied, giving him a faint smile.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” he answered and then, hesitantly, spoke again. “It was quite a nice hug, if it makes you feel better.”

Anya laughed and Draco felt his knees tremble and his heart skip a beat at the sound of the thousand bells that chimed inside her throat. He couldn’t repress the smile that appeared on his lips, either, and he still marvelled when he realised how much he had changed in the past year. Instead of his usual wrinkles between his eyebrows, he started noticing them fading more and more and instead being replaced by markings around the corners of his mouth. His breathing felt easier, his feet felt less heavy and he, as a whole, felt way lighter, as if there was a weight that had been lifted off his shoulders when he started working at Hogwarts. He remembered the days during his sixth year at school with a grim expression on his face: despite it being so recent, everything felt so distant. Days where he wasn’t sure he wanted to get out of bed because he despised what he had become and the task that lay ahead of him; the constant feeling that someone was watching him and the sensation of a fist clenching around his heart. He didn’t remember a time where he had felt so heavy, so filthy, so worthless. And even worse, it had taken him too long to realise that the person he used to see in the mirror wasn’t himself: it had been, for the longest time, but it was after the Battle that he realised that wasn’t the life he would’ve chosen for himself. The thought of the families he had helped destroy, the people that had died in front of his eyes and the irreparable damaged he had helped caused to the magical world kept him up all night, gave him nightmares that he thought would end when he woke up, covered in sweat and panting heavily.

But the nightmares never ended; he woke up from one only to realise his whole life was a bigger dream he couldn’t wake up from. At times he lost all sense of reality, when he woke up to screaming in his basement or the high-pitched shrieks of girls being ripped apart by Greyback and his gang just outside his window. His mother would often sleep in the room right next to his, only to let him know she was there and that everything was real, although he wished with all his might it wasn’t.

It was when he returned to teach at his old school and was appointed to supervise Anya’s detention that he remembered just how passionate he had been about things before the weight of the dark arts was bestowed upon him. Later that same day, in his office, he sat down and drank to the memories that were slowly coming back to him: his eighth birthday, when his mother had gifted him his first book about stars. It was a beautiful book, which was to be read in the dark because the stars and constellations were projected onto his ceiling and he could see the movements of the sky just as if he was laying on the grass and looking up. His father had discovered him one time, when he was supposed to be reading his books on Dark Arts and instead was marvelling at his newest acquisition; he had confiscated his gift and Draco hadn’t seen it ever since.

And he couldn’t help but wonder how different his life could have been if he had never been dragged into a life he never asked for but grew to believe it was what he truly wanted, and instead just kept nurturing the thirst for knowledge and understanding his younger self had. But that other Draco was long gone and after all the atrocities he had endured and all the pain he had inflicted, he wasn’t sure he would ever be that little boy that wanted to know the stars ever again.

“I’m really sorry either way,” Anya replied, as Draco came back to his senses. “It’s been quite the week, that’s all. I wish I could just stop thinking about everything.”

“I’m terrible at making people feel better,” Draco admitted, “but if you need to get something off your chest… I won’t tell.”

Anya smiled once again at him and he felt his whole world light up.

She didn’t know what it was, but she felt drawn to him and almost started telling him every single thing that was bothering her: from Ari’s incurable disease, to the night she spent with Marcus and she still didn’t know whether she regretted, to her task…

And her thoughts came to a halt as she realised, with a heavy heart, that there were too many things between them. She kept too many secrets, and the most important ones were related to the owner of the most intriguing grey eyes she had ever looked into that was standing right by her side.

Deep down, she dreamt of a love story so intense it would drown out every other story. She longed for the kind of love that set the world on fire but kept the smoke at bay just so the two of them could breathe in the other’s air and nothing came close to harming them. But she had chased those thoughts away ever since she realised she had started developing new feelings towards Draco: their lives were irreconcilable; they were worlds apart from the other.

And yet, it wasn’t gravity that pulled her closer to him: it was his mysterious aura and secretive ways that made her orbit around him. She had known love, hate, disappointment and grief; but no experience could have prepared her for the sheer amount of feelings that threatened to engulf her every time she thought about him. Inside her heart, anger felt like lust and curiosity wrestled against her reluctance to get any closer to him.

He might’ve been the owner of the coldest eyes she’d ever known, but she was sure she’d burn the second she gave in. And catching fire wasn’t something she was willing to try.

“Thank you, Draco,” she muttered. “The NEWT’s are stressing me out, that’s all. And I’m still tired from the Ball so I won’t be able to do much today.”

“Don’t be too harsh on yourself,” he said, his stare unwavering. “Whenever I was stressed, it would really help to go for a stroll and breathe some fresh air. Or eat, that works too.”

Anya looked at him gratefully and remembered what she had seen the night before: his face painted with pure hatred, his fist colliding against bone and his bruised hand she hadn’t been able to completely heal. She looked down at it and saw a bundle of white bandages; his hand was close to hers and just for a moment, she thought about sliding hers until their fingers were close enough to touch. She quickly dismissed the thought.

“How have _you_ been?” she asked, not wanting him to know she was aware of his latest movements.

“Overall, better than ever before,” he replied, and his expression looked genuine. “There’s just some things that I can’t seem to be able to escape.”

Anya looked at him and couldn’t believe he would present himself in front of her so vulnerable, all the layers that had been shielding his emotions gone and only his purest sentiments laying near his core.

Just as Anya was thinking how badly she wanted to forgive him and how bad her brain was telling her to stay focused and remember who she was talking about, Draco was telling himself she’d never forgive him, not until she knew the truth of what had truly happened between them during the Battle.

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” Anya replied, carefully sliding towards him. “I wish there was something I could do to help you.”

He looked at her and felt undeserving of the sincerity her words were impregnated by. She smiled as if he was worth the wrinkles that formed near the corners of her mouth and her eyes shone only for him.

“Well, another hug wouldn’t be too bad,” he replied in a playful tone, hoping she would realise he wasn’t at all playing.

She laughed at him once again but, to his luck, she understood what lay behind his words. She edged closer to him and, instead of burying her face on his chest again, she wrapped both her arms around his neck, stood on the tip of her toes to be able to reach him and pressed her cheek to his shoulders, closing her eyes and getting lost in his embrace.

That time, he was ready. As soon as her arms were around him, he hugged her by the waist, unsure of what to do that wouldn’t make her feel uncomfortable. He slowly pressed his chin to her shoulder, giving her time to back up if she wanted to, but her hug only grew tighter and encouraged him to stay in that same position. The height difference made it a little uncomfortable for him and he had to bend down a little, but he didn’t dare switch positions, afraid she’d believe he wanted to break away from their hug. He could feel her chest rising every time she breathed and her heartbeat on his skin.

They stayed like that for a minute and then, she unwrapped her arms from his neck. Draco was a little reluctant to let her go, but didn’t want her to feel like he was holding her back. He let her take a step back, but noticed her eyes were fixed on his.

And then, when he thought she would turn around and leave, her hazel pupils shifted and looked down at his lips. He thought he was imagining things and his heart started pounding rapidly in his chest.

Anya saw the realisation cross his eyes and scolded herself mentally for having looked down at his lips. She couldn’t help it; the closeness she was feeling was unlike any she remembered ever experiencing with him and she had to stop herself from thinking about crashing her lips against his.

And then she did it, again. And when she looked back up at Draco’s eyes, he was still looking at her. They were centimetres apart from each other, the tip of his polished shoes brushing hers, and Anya could feel the ringing of her heartbeat on her ears.

She was always so collected, her actions controlled and thought through. But she’d always wanted to test how far her impulses could take her; that day, it was as good a time as any other.

She moved her face closer to his, carefully, just in case he wanted to pull back and make her regain the grip on her emotions; he just stood there, his eyes fixed on hers, his tongue brushing his lower lip. Anya took that as a sign and broke the distance that separated their lips.

Heedless of her own consciousness telling her she shouldn’t get closer to him, she buried her hand in his hair. Draco’s lips were unsure at first, but easily gave in to her and melted in her mouth like honey. He grabbed her by her hips and pulled her closer to his body, strongly gripping her sides as if he was afraid she would just slip through his fingers if he let go. Their chests and stomachs were touching and Anya felt a rush of heat in every place where her skin met his. She was on her toes due to their height difference and she felt her feet cramp, causing her to slip and accidentally pulling on his hair to regain her footing. She was quickly secured by Draco’s arms, who then slid his hands and grabbed her by the back of her thighs, helping her seat on the desk so their faces were at the same level. He pried her legs open with his knee and positioned himself in between them, letting out a soft grunt when she wrapped her own around his waist. He wasted no time and pulled away, only to lower his lips and kiss her jaw and her neck. He left a wet trail down her neck that made her shiver and then he kissed his way back up, nearing her ear. He nibbled at her lobe, using his tongue to pull and kiss while his hands, which were resting on her knees, slowly made their way up her legs; Anya could do nothing but breathe in and out rapidly, trying her best not to let out any sound. She felt his hands near the hem of her skirt and pressing on her sensitive skin, leaving red marks in the shape of his fingertips. She wrapped her legs tighter around him, making him let out a surprised gasp, and he returned his hungry mouth back to hers. Anya could feel her lips beginning to swell but all she wanted to do was be closer to him; his hands slid her skirt up until the hem was brushing the satin edge of her underwear and she bit down on his lip until she drew blood. A grunt escaped from Draco’s throat and he placed his hands on either sides of her hips, underneath the fabric of her skirt, drawing circles with his thumbs. Anya placed her hand on his chest and made her way up to the first buttons of his shirt, which she started unbuttoning while her lips were still on his.

A high-pitched laugh made them both jump and Draco took an involuntary step backwards. They heard Peeves’s voice echo down the corridor as he made his way across, probably shouting at some student. Anya looked back at Draco, whose eyes hadn’t left hers, and saw him lick the blood off his lips.

She came back to her senses and realised what she had just done. She quickly jumped from his desk, straightened her skirt and tied her hair up. She grabbed the book that lay, forgotten, next to her feet and got up again, walking towards the door.

“Anya, wait,” Draco pleaded, as he followed her towards the door.

“Thank you for the book, Draco,” she simply stated, turning her head slightly to give him a reassuring smile. “I should leave now.”

“Wait,” he said, finally catching up and placing his hand over the door so she couldn’t open it. “Look at me.”

Anya turned slowly and saw him towering over her, his hand pressed to the wood and his hair a mess, two strands framing his delicate features. He was still breathing heavily and his cheeks were coloured by a faint blush.

“I really need to go, Draco,” she whispered, not wanting to look away from his eyes.

“I know,” he said. “I just wanted to make sure I… _we_ didn’t do anything that made you uncomfortable.”

Anya looked at his grey eyes, which were a shade darker, his pupils dilated and her own heartbeat pulsing on her ears. She knew she had enjoyed every second of what had just happened and was a little disappointed they were interrupted.

But she couldn’t. In the end, she knew what she was doing was wrong. There was an abyss too wide between them that she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to cross.

“Don’t worry, I don’t regret it,” she carefully answered. “But I really need to go.”

And with that, she turned around and left his office. Draco was left with a blush on his cheeks and the only sign that indicated she had ever been in there were his books, which were scattered on the floor, and his rapid heartbeat that seemed unable to slow down.


	31. Poorly Executed Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact of the night: ever since I started this story, back in November, I haven't used the word "ginger" to describe Ginny because I JUST REMEMBERED IT EXISTED. I genuinely spent three months writing a story where one of the prominent characters is a ginger and I didn't remember there was a word for it.

“This is actually the most stupid idea you’ve had in your entire life.”

“Sod off, Thomas. Do you want to live or not?”

“Well, now that I know you have a death wish I’m not so sure we’ll survive this.”

Ari was casually leaning against one of the gigantic windows that let the light inside Greenhouse three. His body was slightly contorted so that he could strategically cover with the back of his robes the opening in the window through which he was speaking to an annoyed Ginny Weasley. The red-haired girl was crouching behind one of the worktables, carefully sliding a clay pot towards her, trying to keep it as steady as possible. Her sleeves were rolled up and a single bead of sweat was running through her face. They weren’t supposed to be there and if she were to be caught stealing from Sprout, she knew she’d be in detention until her last day at Hogwarts. 

The reason they were in the greenhouse while everyone else was sunbathing or studying near the lake was because, after her little encounter with Draco, Anya had decided to focus all her energy in helping Ari. She had spent the day in her bedroom, claiming she was feeling sick (Marcus had tried to visit her but she didn’t let him go up to her dormitory and eventually, he left the Ravenclaw common room); in that time, she had decided to do anything that would take her mind off the fact that she could still feel Draco’s wet lips trailing up her neck. She decided to read the book he had given her, after realising she wouldn’t be able to concentrate in her NEWTs, and spent four hours making notes and learning about the process to become an Animagus. After making a list of everything they’d need, her stomach won the argument against her brain and so she went down for dinner. She proceeded to explain the complicated procedures behind the complex magic they wanted to execute and purposely avoided Marcus’s and Draco’s eyes; when she was done, she asked Luna to accompany her back to her room so that neither of the men she so desperately wanted to avoid would have a chance to catch her alone. By the next morning, she had a carefully thought out schedule that required all six of them to help with something and started dividing their tasks: Ky was in charge of recollecting the dew with a silver teaspoon, Luna had to research the spell Ari would have to perform every sunrise and sundown, Marcus, who was the person who had the best relationship with Slughorn, would have to procure the chrysalis of a Death's-head Hawk Moth, Anya would be in charge of recollecting all the ingredients and brew the potion once the thirty days had gone by and finally, Ari and Ginny were in charge of getting the mandrake leaf he would have to keep in his mouth for a month.

Planning and strategy weren’t Ari’s or Ginny’s strongest traits, but the Gryffindor was reckless and the Slytherin boy was good at never getting caught; they ended up deciding that Ginny would slip through the greenhouse’s window and Ari would keep an eye out for trouble. That led to the situation they were stuck in, and with every passing second, Ari got more nervous.

“Ari, I swear to Merlin, if you don’t stop babbling right now I _will_ hex you,” Ginny replied, after the third time her friend had asked how much longer it would take her.

She finally managed to get the pot closer to her body and grabbed the scissors, assessing which leaf would be the most fit for the job. She tried to move in the slowest manner possible and every time she talked, she’d whisper: the grown mandrake in front of her eyes was sleeping and if it woke up and started shrieking, Ginny would probably die. And after surviving one of the most gruesome battles the wizarding world had witnessed, she was _not_ going to die because a plant yelled at her.

She found the greenest leaf and swiftly neared the blades towards it. She grabbed it gently between her fingers and held her breath as she made the cut. She closed her eyes, expecting to hear a high pitched cry, but the sheer silence meant she had done her job right. She smiled cockily at Ari, who was standing just outside, and got up, slipping back through the window. But just when she thought they’d managed to go unnoticed, her foot got stuck on the windowsill and she accidentally wiggled it too hard, causing a plant pot to blow up in a million pieces. The mandrake woke up from its slumber and Ari could close the window just in time before its cries deafened them. They looked at each other in terror and started running towards the shadows as they heard Professor Sprout’s footsteps nearing the entrance of the greenhouse; she could be faster than Filch if she felt her plants were in danger.

Once they were sure they were out of harm’s way, Ari had to sit down and take off his school robes; his chest was aching and he could feel the fire burning the flesh on his chest. Ginny conjured a glass of water and sat beside him, clutching her side. Once his heartbeat had returned to its normal rate, he looked at her friend in astonishment:

“Are you sure you’re trying to save my life and not kill me quicker?”

***

After her friends had returned and she had performed the spell that would bind the mandrake leaf to Ari’s palate for the following month (“This is such a good idea, who in their sane mind would think you have to keep your mouth shut for a whole month?” Ari said, when she had told him about her plan. “I really hope you hadn’t said anything, it would have been a wonderful month,” Ginny had replied), Anya left them and went straight towards the library. She went to the table furthest from the door, an unusual spot since she always sat beside the windows, and made herself comfortable on the armchair. She opened her Transfiguration book on her lap, since that was the first NEWT she would be taking, and plunged into its pages.

Two hours later she got up from her seat, happy she could study for so long without being distracted by anything else. She returned the books she had borrowed and went through the great doors, thinking about the things she still needed to study.

She was about to turn to her left, when a tall figure emerged from the shadows near the entrance to the library and quickly caught up to her, despite the fact that Anya quickened her pace as soon as she saw him coming.

“ _Not this again, not right now,_ ” she thought.

“I knew I’d find you here,” Draco said, gazing into her eyes. “Although after fifteen minutes of waiting I thought maybe I had missed you.”

“Well, I’m here!” Anya replied, looking straight ahead as she walked towards her common room.

“I just wanted to talk to you for a second,” he said, edging closer to her.

Anya was relieved when she heard someone call her name from behind, but all that alleviation disappeared when she realised it was Marcus who was walking towards her.

“ _This has got to be some kind of fucked up joke_ ,” she internally cringed.

Marcus quickly caught up to them and nodded once at Draco: “Professor.”

“Bagman,” he replied, clearly bothered by his presence.

“I was headed to the library when I saw you walking the other way. I knew I’d find you there,” he said, this time to Anya.

“ _Am I really that bloody predictable?”_ she thought again.

“Hello, Marcus,” she replied, cautiously.

“May I talk to Anya for a bit, professor?” he asked Draco, although it didn’t sound like an inquiry.

“We were in the middle of discussing an important matter, if you don’t mind,” he responded.

Anya’s eyes darted from one to the other in disbelief. “I’m pretty sure all of this can wait.”

“It can’t,” they both answered in unison. They looked at each other with equal curiosity and distrust.

Anya sighed and knew she wouldn’t be able to escape that situation. “Fine. Excuse me for a minute, professor.”

Marcus walked towards a column on the other side of the corridor and hid behind it, away from Draco’s vision. Anya saw him lean against the wall and his eyes didn’t leave hers until she was out of sight.

“I’m not stupid, I know you’re avoiding me,” he said, as soon as she looked at him. “I just need to say this and then, I’ll leave you alone.”

“Marcus, that’s not—”

“Please,” he pleaded. “Just listen to me.”

Once he saw Anya wouldn’t interrupt him again, he started speaking: “I don’t know what goes through your mind half the time and it’s your decision whether you decide to tell me or not. But you haven’t talked to me ever since the night of the Ball and I just need to know if it’s something I did. I thought you had a good time, but if there’s anything that made you uncomfortable please talk to me about it.”

“There isn’t,” she replied, feeling her heart shrink inside her chest. “I had a great time and I’m sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t.”

“I had a great time too, Anya,” he replied, grabbing her hand and drawing circles with his thumb. “The best time, actually. But it’s clear that you don’t feel the same way.”

“It’s complicated,” she replied, her eyes unintentionally slipping away from her friend and landing on the other side of the corridor.

“I’m sure it is,” he replied, dropping her hand. “I can’t do this anymore; I can’t keep pretending we want the same thing. Please, tell me if you want me to step down and I will.”

Anya looked at him in the eyes, the green spark gone. Marcus had slowly slithered his way into her heart, with his constant flirting, his attentiveness and his jokes. He’d been with her through everything, fought alongside her during the Battle and held her when she had to mourn her friends. She had always liked him and she liked how he made her feel. He was just, brave, handsome and deeply in love with her: she couldn’t deny the feelings he had for him, either.

But her mind was somewhere else. She had spent too much time scolding herself for every single thing she thought she regretted: sleeping with her best friend and kissing her professor. She hadn’t taken the time to think about what she wanted because she was too busy trying to do the right thing, the thing she was supposed to do. But in reality, a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions had taken over her head and she wasn’t sure whether she wanted to do “the right thing” anymore.

She loved him, that much she knew. But as she stood before him, taking in his brown curls, his impossibly green eyes and his beautiful features, she realised it wasn’t enough.

“I’m truly sorry,” she replied, trying to meet his eyes. “You don’t deserve this.”

“Yeah, I know,” he answered, stepping back.

He seemed to think twice about it and walked towards her again, kissing her forehead. With one last sad smile he wandered away, his hands in his pockets and his pace slow.

Anya watched him walk away, feeling as if she had just chosen one of the paths that diverged at the crossroads. As much as she wanted to tell him to come back, to have him as she always had, she knew she was being unfair and selfish. With a decision came its consequences, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to face them.

She breathed deeply before returning to where Draco was standing, twirling his wand around his fingers.

“That was longer than just ‘a bit’,” he said as soon as he saw her approaching him.

“What is it?” she cut him off, not in the mood to discuss any more of her feelings.

“We owe ourselves a chat after what happened in my office,” he replied, lowering his voice.

“I don’t think there’s anything to talk about. I’m sure we both realise why _that_ can’t happen ever again and no one can know about it,” she replied, her own heart heavy with the weight of her lies.

Draco looked back at her with surprise written in his eyes. “Let’s discuss this matter elsewhere.”

“I think we’re perfectly fine discussing the matter here,” Anya replied, stubbornly.

“I said _elsewhere_ ,” he said with authority and moved his head slightly to his right so Anya would see the few students on the corridor that were beginning to stare.

He began walking away and turned around on his heels when he noticed Anya wasn’t following him. He arched one of his eyebrows and signalled her to step forward; Anya trailed behind him and all she could think about was that she hoped “elsewhere” didn’t mean a deserted classroom where she didn’t know if her moral compass would point her in the right direction.

She had to contain a sigh when she realised he was leading her towards the Defence Against the Dark Arts room. He held the door open for her and as she entered, closed it and left the room in the direst silence. Anya sat down on one of the desks, keeping her distance. He walked and leant against his.

“That’s better,” he simply said.

“What’s there to talk about?” she asked, looking at anything other than his eyes.

“Is that a trick question?” he asked, with a tint of humour. “I don’t know if you knew this, but what we did isn’t something I normally do with students.”

“Well, that’s certainly a relief for McGonagall. Can’t imagine the amount of howlers she would get if that were normal behaviour,” Anya replied sarcastically, although deep down her heart gave a leap.

“No need to be sarcastic,” he replied, clenching his jaw. “I just wanted to make sure everything was clear between us.”

“Clear as day,” she answered. “I can assure you it won’t happen again.”

“Why not?”

The question took her by surprise. She looked at him for the first time and noticed his grey eyes were almost unnoticeable under the black of his dilated pupils. The room was bathed in shadows that grew bigger as the sun went lower behind the mountains but she could still see him perfectly fine.

“Is this a trick question?” she repeated.

“Does it sound like a trick question? Do I look like I am taking the piss?” he replied, his eyes growing darker. “I’m being serious.”

“Well, you’re my professor.”

“You’re leaving Hogwarts in less than two months,” he retorted.

“You’re also older than me,” she replied, trying to find more excuses to avoid confessing how she truly felt about him.

“I’m nineteen. You turned eighteen a few months ago. I don’t see the problem in that,” he answered, a small grin threatening to take over.

“You’re… You can get in a lot of trouble,” she frantically responded.

“Let me be the one who decides how much trouble I’m willing to get into for you.”

He took a careful step forward. Anya knew she should have stepped back, but she couldn’t move her feet.

“Tell me you want me to stop and I will,” he said.

She should’ve said something, anything. She knew she couldn’t and not because of any of the reasons she had laid down before him; she didn’t think _that_ was what McGonagall had meant when she asked her to “get to know him better”.

But she couldn’t. Her mouth had been sealed shut and her feet weren’t responding to the commands her brain was sending. She could do nothing but look at him as he got closer, his eyes almost completely black and half his face hidden in the shadows.

“I was just waiting for you to do something so I wouldn’t fuck everything up,” he explained, sitting next to her. “And thank Merlin you did.”

“I don’t know why I did it,” she replied. It was a lie.

“I don’t think that’s the truth,” he said. “I think you always wanted to, but never allowed yourself to be anything less than perfect and morally correct.”

He placed his index finger below her chin and lifted it up, forcing her eyes to meet his. They were still darkened by his black pupils, but Anya could also see he was being sincere. She was seeing him at his most vulnerable state.

“I’ve lived my whole life trying to please others. It’s time I start going after what I really want,” he whispered as he brushed his finger on her skin. “And what I want is you.”

She shivered under his touch and the weight of his words. She had been convinced he’d see their encounter the same way she did; something that had been undeniably marvellous but could never happen again. There were too many things that weren’t right.

“Draco, we can’t—”

“Tell me, Anya,” he interrupted her as he traced the outline of her arm with his slender fingers. “Tell me you don’t remember how I touched you.”

He slid his hand all the way up to her neck and let it rest there, her throat between his thumb and index finger. “Tell me you don’t remember how your pulse beat under my fingers.”

Draco moved his hand towards the crane of her neck and buried it on her brown hair. Anya licked her lips.

“Tell me you don’t remember how you pulled on my hair and breathed in my ear.”

She felt her knees weaken but forced herself to stand still, not sure whether she wanted him to keep going or stop so she wouldn’t do something she would then regret. She was gripping the back of the desk tightly and thought her heart would burst.

Draco slid his finger towards her wet, plump lower lip and pressed down on it. “Tell me you don’t remember how I kissed you.”

Anya inhaled shakily and looked into his eyes, on the verge of begging him to never stop. There was a glimmer in the midst of the grey and the black that matched the stars that were beginning to appear on the night sky. He leaned in and she resigned herself; she didn’t care what was right, she just knew it felt good.

She closed her eyes in anticipation but before his lips could meet hers, he moved his mouth towards her ear.

“You can pretend all you want, but your eyes can’t hide how good I made you feel.”

And with that, he took a step back, grabbed his coat and walked towards the door, leaving Anya frozen in place. Before he went through the door, he looked back at where she was still standing and smiled behind her back.

“Close the door on your way out, if you will.”

He left her in the shadows of a room that just seconds ago had been alight with the burning flame that made her skin flush. Anya breathed deeply and stayed for a few more minutes, trying to steady her heartbeat.


	32. Forgive and Forget

_“What the fuck was I thinking?”_

Draco Malfoy sat behind his desk, as his third year students read their assigned chapters in complete silence. Even though he had managed to have a cordial relationship with most of them, he knew they all still feared him. He could understand why, but he really wished they wouldn’t shut up every time he came into view and behaved more like the annoying teenagers he’d had to endure during his years as a student. The fact that they were so abnormally dutiful would have pleased any other professor in his position, but he knew it wasn’t because they respected him: it was because they knew who he was and what he had done. He wanted to outrun his past, but his past seemed to always catch up to him.

On that particular day, the silence was forcing him to relieve his encounter with Anya; every time he thought about it, he felt mortified. He didn’t know what had got into him; where those words had come from, where he had found the courage to touch her again and the level of restraint after he had her at his mercy.

One thing he did know was that he had meant every single word he said. He had never known what he truly wanted, he often confused his father’s desires for his own: and yet the hazel-eyed girl was the first person he’d wanted even though he knew he couldn’t. He had fancied other people before, but he had never felt the way he did at that exact moment: every other time felt like an obligation, and after everything he’d learnt about his father, he wouldn’t have been surprised to know every person he’d ever been with were just pawns in the bigger game his family played.

He tried to sort his thoughts out. The way he saw it, there were two main problems (three, if he took into account the fact that, for another month and a half, Anya would still be his student): the first one being that, in her eyes, he was still the Death-Eater Slytherin boy he’d been throughout his years as a student. She had learnt to know the side of him he was just beginning to discover himself, that much was true, but there was still something holding her back. And he knew he couldn’t blame her. He had been ruthless, loathsome, cruel and treacherous; he’d inflicted pain and he’d stood as a silent witness to all kinds of tortures. He’d been a leader for causes he no longer believed in and he knew he would never forgive himself entirely.

The second problem was that Anya was a very perceptive person: he was still hiding things from her and he suspected that was one of the reasons why she didn’t trust him completely. There were some secrets that he couldn’t reveal, for the sake of his own safety. He wouldn’t be able to tell her everything, not until he knew he was safe. And he didn’t know how long that could take. There were still people out there who could find him and hurt him or his mother, there were far too many evil wizards following his trail. He knew he was safe at Hogwarts, but he couldn’t know what would happen if someone found out he was there.

A second thought popped into his head: did _he_ trust Anya enough to unveil all his secrets? Did he trust her enough to know she wouldn’t divulge them? The first answer that came to his mind was that yes, he did trust her; he probably trusted her more than he had ever trusted anyone else in his life, aside from his mother. But because of the lack of trustworthy people he had been surrounded with, he didn’t know whether he would be able to blindly confide in anyone. And that thought really scared him.

The sound of the bell that indicated the end of the class startled him and soon enough, his students were putting their books away. He gave them some pages to read before the following class and then left his classroom once everyone else had gone away. He walked towards his office for a cup of tea before his following class and saw Fred Weasley and Peeves on the other corridor, talking in hushed tones. He was about to turn to his left but hesitated for a moment.

He took a deep breath and even though he knew he would be embarrassed, he also knew it was something he had to do. If he truly wanted everyone to see he had changed, he knew he would have to start acting towards that goal. He sighed, turned to the corridor and was relieved to see Peeves was gone.

“Weasley,” he called out, trying to keep that disdainful tone he had always added to the surname away from his voice.

“Malfoy,” Fred replied with unnatural coldness.

“I’ve been meaning to speak with you.”

“Whatever you think I did, you’re probably right. So let’s spare us both of this conversation.”

He was already sliding towards the nearest wall when he heard the professor’s voice again: “I’m sorry.”

Fred turned around in astonishment. “Well, that’s a phrase I didn’t know you had in your vocabulary.”

Draco ignored the sarcastic remark and instead, blurted out all at once so he wouldn’t have time to give it a second thought: “I’m sorry for all the shit I did. I know it doesn’t fix anything and I can’t take back all the things I’ve said about your family and your house, even about your mum—”

“Yeah, the only thing I’m sorry for about that day was the fact that Katie, Angelina and Alicia held me back so I couldn’t punch you right in the middle of your face,” Fred interrupted him. “There’s also the fact that my sister almost died because of your little book, I don’t know if you remember that one.”

“That was my father’s doing and he’s an asshole,” he simply replied.

“Can’t argue with you on that one.”

They stayed in silence for a minute until Draco spoke again, clearing his throat:

“Well, yeah… That’s what I wanted to say.”

“A little late, aren’t we? I mean, with me being dead and all,” Fred responded, a small grin on his lips. “Are you trying to behave so I put in a good word for you? Sorry to disappoint, but no gods or saints have approached me so far.”

“I’m certainly gutted,” the blonde-haired man said, letting out a quick laugh. “Now I take it all back.”

Fred grinned and Draco felt another weight lifted off his shoulders.

“You know, I have a chimney connected to the Floo Network in my office, in case you ever want to… you know, speak to your family. We can arrange that,” he said, unsure of what else to do to start earning his forgiveness.

“I might take you up on that offer, mate,” Fred replied, and they both knew there was nothing else to say.

“Well… don’t cause too much trouble, Weasley,” he replied as he started walking away.

“Don’t count on it,” Fred replied from behind.

The corridor was silent for a few seconds before the redhead shouted behind him: “Just a warning… You might want to stay away from the Great Hall’s entrance for the next hour. But you didn’t hear it from me.”

Draco looked over his shoulder and smiled at him. He knew he wasn’t even close to repairing the damage he’d caused, but he felt he was a step closer to becoming a man he wasn’t ashamed to look at in the mirror.

***

Anya was resolutely walking down a flight of stairs, heading towards the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. She had been thinking about it and she wouldn’t let her own head get in the way of her duties: she would talk to Draco, sort things out and try to carry on with what the Order had entrusted to her. Sounded easy. She knew it wouldn’t be, but she was ready to stand her ground and make him understand that she wanted to keep things professional. She just hoped her eyes wouldn’t betray her again.

She almost ran into Ky and Ari, who were headed towards the Slytherin common room. Anya promptly realised something was wrong from the look of the Hufflepuff’s face and the sweat that was drenching Ari’s clothes.

“What’s wrong?” she asked them, walking straight towards her friends.

“Oh, nothing much,” Ari replied with difficulty, either due to pain or the fact that he had to keep a mandrake leaf in his mouth. “I’m just dying, that’s all.”

“Shut it,” Ky replied. “He got agitated after we had to chase down my frog, I’m taking him to his dormitory now.”

“Please let me know if you need something, will you?” Anya asked, looking at her.

“Don’t worry, I will,” Ky replied with a smile and walked away, Ari leaning on her.

The pair turned the corner and Anya stood still for a few moments, trying her best to calm down and focus on the task ahead of her. They still had time, she tried to convince herself. It had been a week and a half since Ari put the mandrake leaf in his mouth, so the plan was already set in motion; only two and a half more weeks and then, they’d be able to perform the spell.

She tried to keep a positive outlook as she hunted her professor down. She decided to check his classroom first, begging to find him there so she wouldn’t have to go looking for him in his office and risk finding herself in a situation where she wouldn’t be able to concentrate much on what she needed to do.

She peered through the door and saw him, standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by first years. She couldn’t see what he was doing, but as soon as he turned around, she noticed his hands were busy with a box of chocolate frogs. There was a pile of pillows in the centre of the group and a boy and a girl were pointing their wands, their eyes narrowed in concentration.

“Now,” she heard Draco say. “Bigsley, Donovan, this is the winning shot. I want you focused and remember to pronounce every word clearly. Are you ready?”

The two first years nodded; Draco counted down from three and as soon as he hit “one”, the rest of the students started cheering on their friends as two pillows levitated in front of their eyes. They carefully moved their wands, directing them towards the bin placed on Draco’s desk. The cheering got louder as the pillows got closer to their target and then, they fell with a soft thud into the basket.

The room exploded in cheers as the students congratulated each other. The boy that had been casting the spell walked towards his professor with a bright smile on his face and extended his hand; Draco did the same and the boy high-fived him before turning around to talk excitedly about his feat. Anya thought she could see the faint trace of a smile as he walked around the room, handing his students chocolate frogs. He reminded them to study for their exams and they left the room, bidding their professor farewell.

As soon as the last student had left the room, she slowly made her way inside. Draco was facing the other way as he cleaned up his desk and didn’t see her coming.

“Draco,” she greeted cautiously, trying not to startle him.

He quickly turned around when he heard her voice and gave her a warm smile that almost made Anya forget what she was there for.

“Anya,” he greeted back. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

She forced herself to be serious: “I think we need to talk.”

The smile was wiped off his face when he noticed how stern she looked. He stopped rummaging through his papers and leant on his desk, looking straight at her.

“I’m listening.”

She took a deep breath and forced her eyes away from his, knowing that she would waver if he kept looking at her that way.

“I’ve been thinking and I really believe we should try to keep our relationship strictly professional…”

“Not this again,” Draco sighed.

“Draco, I think this what’s best for us—”

“What’s best for you, maybe. What’s easier,” he interrupted her. “I know what’s best for me, and it’s certainly not this.”

“You have to understand, Draco…” she pleaded.

“No, _you_ have to understand. I’m finally starting to know who I am. And that’s partly because of you,” he responded, frustration dripping from his voice. “Just give me one good reason, Anya.”

“I’ve already given you plenty,” she responded, matching his frustration.

“Those weren’t valid reasons and you bloody know it. You’re just making up excuses because you don’t want to admit that you actually feel the same way I do,” he answered, taking a step closer to her.

“Draco, we can’t,” she repeated, feeling herself getting annoyed.

“You can think of a million reasons why we shouldn’t,” he said, lifting her chin and forcing her to look him in the eyes. “But, Anya, the only thing that matters is that I’d take everything back just for the pleasure of being yours.”

Anya felt her eyes water and she looked away, unable to say her next words looking into his eyes; they looked the colour of ash, as if he knew what she was about to say would extinguish the flame that had lit up his eyes when he first saw her.

“Stop, Draco. We can’t. You can’t take back what you’ve done.”

“I’ve changed, Anya, I truly have. And I will do everything in my power to deserve you at last,” he said, desperately grabbing her hand as he felt her slip away. “Whatever I’ve done—”

“Draco, you almost fucking killed me during the Battle!” Anya finally shouted, taking a step back and letting the tears fall down her cheeks. “That’s what’s been holding me back. That’s the huge abyss that separates us.”

Draco was looking at her with a blank expression. She breathed out, relieved she’d finally said what had been bothering her all along. That was the reason she knew they’d never work; she couldn’t get past that.

“I know you’ve changed,” she spoke again. “I’ve seen it. And I’m delighted for you, I truly am. But you can’t expect me to just forget everything you’ve done and be with you. You’ve changed, and yet you’re still the same man that held one of my best friends captive for months, let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts, pointed his fucking wand at my face and sent the killing curse my way. If I hadn’t slipped, I probably wouldn’t be here. For months after the Battle I woke up from nightmares where your face was the last thing I saw before a green light clouded my eyes.

“I know you’ve changed, Draco. But I can’t keep pretending everything’s fine when we’re nothing alike.”

With every one of Anya’s words, Draco felt his world crumpling around him. Now he understood and he couldn’t believe how stupid he’d been. Everything he’d done before and during the Battle was to protect himself and his family; and he knew the consequences that could come with telling Anya the truth.

He had a choice to make: to preserve himself at the risk of losing her or tell her the whole story, risking whatever could come his way if anyone else found out. He had to decide whether he trusted her with his secrets or not.

And putting his life in the hands of someone else was the scariest thought he had ever known. But after all, he knew there was no turning back.

“Come with me,” he replied, looking into her sad eyes. It broke him to see her that way.

“No, Draco—”

“Please,” he pleaded, taking her hand in his. “I need you to know the whole story. After you’ve seen what I want to show you, I promise to leave you alone.”

Anya hesitated, feeling the fatigue threatening to take over her body. She was tired of going in circles, she was tired of fighting her emotions and she was really tired of having to jump over all the obstacles presented before her. And as she looked into Draco’s eyes, the silver shining like a newly polished armour, she wanted to just give in and stop fighting against what she wanted. It would be easier to fall into his arms again, ignore all the darkness that surrounded them and pretend it was as easy as forgiving and forgetting. She knew it wasn’t and she suspected that, deep inside, he knew that as well.

But as much as everything was difficult between them, she also knew she cared deeply for him. She didn’t owe him, but she wanted him to be at peace with whatever it was he needed to get off his chest.

“Fine,” she replied. “Show me.”

He motioned her to follow him and they left his classroom. They walked through the corridors and up the misleading stairs; finally, they stood before McGonagall’s office. He muttered the password, the gargoyle moved aside and he ascended the stairs, Anya trailing behind him.

She began panicking as soon as she noticed where they were headed; if McGonagall even suspected there was something going on between them other than a strictly professional relationship, she knew the consequences would be severe. She would have not only broken school rules, but also failed the Order’s task.

“I don’t think involving McGonagall is the best idea,” she quietly spoke, trying to keep the fear at bay.

“Don’t worry, she’s gone for the day,” he replied as he pushed the door open.

She let out a relieved sigh and followed him in. The office looked as tidy as ever and she had the same urge to inspect every device, piece of paper and corner as she ever did when she visited her headmistress. She held back as she watched Draco open and close cupboards, looking for something he didn’t seem to be able to find.

Finally, he opened one that was hidden between two telescopes and pointed his wand at whatever was inside it. Anya marvelled as she saw Dumbledore’s Pensieve hovering mid-air. He gently placed it on McGonagall’s desk and seemed to hesitate as he held his wand close to his head. He looked at her once and seemed to make up his mind; he pressed the tip of his wand to his temple, closed his eyes and began extracting a thin silver line that he then threw into the Pensieve. Its surface glittered and she could see the mist forming after his thoughts had been poured into it.

Draco gave his wand a twirl and the silver matter moved around, waiting to show its owner’s memories. He looked at her and his eyes looked the same hue; shrouded behind a layer of mist, eager to unveil their secrets at last.

“Those are my memories from the day of the Battle,” he said, and Anya’s heart began thumping loudly in her chest. “I want you to learn the truth through my eyes. And after you’ve seen it, please let me explain. There are some things that can’t be excused, but there are some others that aren’t what they seem.”

Anya took a few steps forward and his eyes followed her every move, watching her as if he was afraid. She placed her hand on his shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, before opening them again and nodding, signalling he was ready.

Her eyes landed on the Pensieve, and she too hesitated before taking another step; she was afraid to find out whatever it was he needed to show her. He seemed to believe it was something so important that he would be able to change her perspective about that dreadful night. There were truths she had long been waiting to learn and there were other that she hadn’t realised needed unveiling up to that same moment.

But she knew he deserved to tell his truth, too. All she wanted for him was to help him purge his inner demons and be at peace with himself at last.

She exhaled the air she had been holding and, feeling the palms of her hands beginning to sweat, leant forward and submerged her head into the cloudy water.


	33. The Truth, At Last

_Anya landed on the main stairs and had to hold onto the railing to avoid falling over. She looked up and what she saw made her stomach lurch; all around her, there were people dressed entirely in black and some others wearing the Hogwarts robes. Hexes and spells were flying in all directions, pieces of granite landing on heads and bodies alike as the walls and ceiling gave in after being hit by different coloured jets of light. Everywhere she looked there was a duel, and Death Eaters didn’t distinguish between students: first and second years were bravely throwing spells while trying to escape their adversaries and most of the black-robed dark wizards wore equal grins, as if there wasn’t anything that made them happier than killing children. Bodies fell all around her, some to get back up immediately and some that meeting their early fate and falling as heroes and heroines. The students that were still holding their ground were aiding each other, jumping in on different duels and facing their opponents. Red, blue, yellow and a few green-robed students were fiercely defending their school, their friends, their family and other people they didn’t know; on the battle field, blood is as important as alliance._

_She saw a jet of blue light soar towards her and ducked instinctively, forgetting no one could see or hurt her. The spell hit a Death Eater behind her right in the middle of the chest and he tumbled down the stairs, falling unconsciously at her feet. She looked up and saw that a longer-haired Ari had been the one to cast the spell; he smiled triumphantly before turning his back and running towards a group of third years that were battling against a blonde wizard that was ruthlessly throwing spells at the children who were doing their best to block them all._

_She was beginning to wonder what was so important about that moment, when she saw Draco run between the people that were crowding the hall near the school entrance. His blonde hair was ruffled, his white skin was darkened with soot and the look in his eyes was gloomy and determined. She decided to follow him and ran towards him, dodging the fallen bodies; they wouldn’t be able to feel her presence, but she felt it would be disrespectful if she stepped on them. Before going into the Great Hall, he cast a spell that hit a Death Eater at the back of his ankles. He tumbled backwards and the first year he had been about to attack could escape his reach. Anya supposed the spell had simply missed its target, but she started doubting herself as he continued throwing defensive hexes and each one of them landed perfectly where he wanted them to land._

_Once he entered the Great Hall, he started moving forward by sliding across the wall, carefully assessing his surroundings. From behind a fallen pillar, a pale hand reached forward and grabbed his sleeve. Startled, he turned around with his wand at the ready, but the hand was stronger and made him duck behind the hiding spot. Anya saw Draco’s features relaxing for a moment when he saw it was his mother who had pulled him aside._

_“Draco, come here, stay safe,” she shouted trying to be heard in the midst of all the shouting._

_“I can’t, mum,” he said, trying to break free from her grip._

_“Listen to your mother, Draco,” a second voice interjected and Draco went back to his tense posture. “Be smart for once.”_

_Lucius Malfoy was hiding behind the pillar as well and despite all the noise, he made himself clear. His cold tone pierced through Anya’s ears and she felt sorry for Draco, whose eyebrows were furrowed in anger._

_“I can’t stay here while innocent blood is being spilled,” he repeated, his eyes fixed on his father’s. “This isn’t right.”_

_“None of these mudbloods and blood traitors are innocent,” Lucius sneered. “They deserve to be punished for not surrendering to our Lord.”_

_Anya saw Draco’s free hand form into a fist as he held his gaze. “We aren’t innocent either, father. But I won’t step aside again while so many wizards and witches are risking their lives because of us.”_

_“Don’t be stupid, Draco,” Lucius spoke again, eyeing his son down. “You’ve chosen your side. Your loyalty is with the Dark Lord and with your family.”_

_“Maybe I see things differently now,” he replied._

_“If you leave now, if you turn your back on your family, you will cease to be a Malfoy,” he sentenced and Anya could feel Draco’s fear through his eyes. “You’ll get yourself killed over a whim.”_

_Draco looked silently at his mother, whose face was wet with tears, and squeezed her hand affectionately. She nodded briefly at him and gave him a warm smile._

_Draco looked back at his father. “I’d rather die trying to set things right than live the rest of my life as a coward.”_

_With one last glance at his mother, he left them hidden behind the pillar and plunged himself back into the battle._

_Anya was about to follow him when she noticed someone else entering the Great Hall; she saw herself walking towards one of the remaining columns, looking around the room. She knew she had been looking for any of her friends, looking for signs that told her they were still alive and fighting. She knew she’d then spotted Bellatrix duelling Hermione and Ginny and that she would join their fight. So she decided to follow Draco; he was already making his way towards his aunt as well. She ran behind him at the same time as the other Anya and stood between them, dreading what was about to happen: she was about to witness how he pointed his wand at her, sent the Killing Curse her way and she stumbled so it ended up hitting the wall._

_Except that’s not what she saw._

_She saw herself battling Bellatrix and Draco watching from a corner. She had managed to throw some curses at her opponent, but the Death Eater easily blocked them while her high-pitched laughter filled her ears and made her anger rise. Hermione and Ginny’s protection charms had worked, but the impact of the Unforgivable Curses thrown their way caused them to collapse against the wall; it was just Anya against Bellatrix at that point._

_And then, she heard the witch shout the beginning of the incantation: “Avada Ked—!”_

_“Everte Statum!”_

_Draco was quicker than her aunt and he cast the spell with his wand pointed directly at Anya’s chest. She fell backwards, painlessly, and the Killing Curse failed to strike her. Anya took advantage of Bellatrix’s moment of confusion, as she watched her nephew with surprise written all over her face, and quickly got up._

_“Flipendo!” she shouted and a jet of yellow light lifted the witch off the ground and sent her flying backwards._

_The spell was meant to knock her out and buy Anya some time to disarm her; however, she had cast it with such hatred that it hit her with more strength than she had anticipated. Bellatrix hit the wall with such force that a boulder of granite detached from the ceiling and buried her under it, thus ending the life of the most fearful Death Eater the world had ever known._

_“No!” Draco shouted, as he watched the lifeless body of his aunt._

_Anya was standing still, her eyes wide open, as she came to the realisation that she had just indirectly murdered someone. She was still in that state when Draco ran over to her._

_“Why did you—?” she asked as he saw Draco standing before her. “You saved my life.”_

_Draco looked around, trying to see whether anyone had witnessed the scene; it was hard to tell with the amount of people that were surrounding them, but he couldn’t do anything about it anymore._

_“And no one can know about it,” he replied, looking into her hazel eyes that were about to burst in tears._

_He pointed his wand at her and Anya saw her past-self tense up and draw her wand in return._

_But before she could say anything, Draco whispered: “Obliviate.”_

_She watched as her eyes lost focus and her mouth relaxed, forgetting everything that had just happened. Anya knew what her mind would think it remembered: her facing Bellatrix, Draco trying to kill her but failing because she tripped and then, Molly Weasley showing up and duelling the dark witch side to side with her until she died under a curse sent her way by the gingers’ mother._

_Draco had not only saved her life, but also spared her from the sorrow of knowing she had murdered someone._

_After having performed the spell, Draco quickly walked away and for a second, the Anya that had been witnessing her professor’s memory unfold could swear he had looked right into her eyes._

_Everything around her began vanishing and the last thing she saw before the memory faded away was herself, running away from where she had been left by Draco and preparing to keep on fighting._

Anya came back to reality with such force that she stumbled backwards; Draco’s hands were promptly on her waist, steadying her. She turned around while he was still holding her, her eyes wide and her lips slightly parted.

Draco let go of her but stood in place, not knowing what was going through her mind.

“Did you see it? Let me explain, I—”

“Shut up, Draco,” she silenced him. “Just shut up.”

She could tell he was hurt, but she had more important things in her mind: what she had just seen changed everything. It certainly didn’t change who he had been, but it did change her perception of him. She had been so hesitant to believe he had changed, afraid she would end up being wrong, that the new information she had just gathered fell upon her like a bucket of icy water. Not only had he been truthful about his intentions to become a better man, but he had also saved her life before he even knew her. He had let her believe that he was a malicious person, when in reality he had tried to redeem himself; he had spared her life without a second’s hesitation, even if that meant going against his own family. Everyone knew she had played a part in Bellatrix Black’s death, but he had spared her the sorrow of knowing she had been the one to actually kill her.

“Anya?” Draco spoke again. “Please talk to me, I need to explain mys—”

But once again, he was interrupted by the Ravenclaw who had been silently staring at the Pensieve up until that moment. With one swift movement, she walked the distance that separated them and grabbed his face between her hands. Disregarding Draco’s confused eyes, she stood on her toes and crashed her lips against his; he immediately grabbed her by the waist and, when Anya broke the kiss to look him in the eyes, breathless, he smiled at her, pushed her face by the nape of her neck and their lips met again.

***

Three hours later, Anya could recreate the whole story in her head. After they left McGonagall’s office, they sat down in his office and Draco told the story from the very beginning. Everything started to finally make sense.

During his sixth year at Hogwarts, Draco had been given a task by the Dark Lord himself. He had been more than willing to comply, as first, but as the days went by he started to realise that, no matter the outcome, his life would be in danger; if he were to succeed, not only would he be allowing a group of dark wizards to enter the school, but he’d also have to kill his own headmaster. If he didn’t do well, he’d risk the Dark Lord getting revenge on his family. He understood he would never be safe under the reign of a man who was willing to kill anyone in his way to succeed.

That was when he began recoiling and being more apprehensive of the things he was asked to do. Despite his eternal rivalry with Harry Potter, he knew that if he were to be caught it would all be over for everyone in the wizarding world; he was asked to identify him once he was captured and he pretended he didn’t know the boy standing in front of him, although he knew his father would figure out he’d been hiding information from them eventually.

Everything else he had done after that, had been to keep himself safe. The day of the Battle, he had tried to stop his best friend from killing Harry, knowing he was the only hope he and his family had of escaping alive if Voldemort found out he was no longer devoted to his cause; Crabbe didn’t listen and ended up getting himself killed. He couldn’t disclose his intentions, so he had to pretend he was still on the dark side, although he knew no one would believe him once it was all over; he had to choose his mother’s side, to keep her safe. And when it was all over, he had to watch the people that had died because of his choices laying on the Great Hall while their families mourned them. Although he had never spoken to her, Tonks was dead, the last of his family gone, and left an orphan child behind. His friends were either dead or on the run and he knew he couldn’t run away too.

He had disobeyed his father’s orders and for that, he was disowned. His mother had pleaded with Lucius but to no avail; Draco had returned to the Malfoy Manor to say goodbye to Narcissa, but as soon as his father found out, he tried to hex him. He could block them and had to disapparate to keep his mum from being hurt; the last time he saw her, her cheeks were stained with tears and he was trying to hold his husband back, buying her son time to leave their house.

After that encounter, he knew her mother was still in danger. His father still kept in touch with some of the Death Eaters that had managed to escape, that much she could tell him the last time they saw each other, and he knew it wouldn’t be long until Lucius did something that could endanger her. By that time, the new Ministry had set up the Post-War Council, a new division that was devoted to receiving testimonies and imprisoning the wizards that had been part of Voldemort’s army; several members of the Order were a part of it. He knew the odds of him being forgiven and his testimony being believed were slim, but he couldn’t bear knowing he could help undoing some of the mistakes he had made and not doing something about it. With his head down and a heavy heart, he requested a meeting with the Council and decided to tell everything he knew: from the moment Voldemort rose to power again, to all the meetings held at his house, to every single conversation he could remember. He admitted to having participated in some of those events, he explained how the Death Eaters that killed Dumbledore entered Hogwarts and gave them the directions to find the cellar at Malfoy Manor where they had kept wizards, witches and goblins imprisoned; it would contain more than enough proof to justify the incarceration of his father. He made sure to explain the details of his parents’ relationship and how his father had made his mother abide to his rules. He wrote down the names of every single Death Eater he remembered and he signed an official document claiming he was being truthful. He was ready to be sent to Azkaban, but McGonagall, who was part of the Council, fiercely argued with the rest of the members that she believed he was being sincere and she could tell, after all those years spent teaching him, that he wanted to be redeemed. After long discussions, Draco Malfoy was free to leave the Ministry of Magic with his wand still in his hand and his well-earned freedom. He thought he was finally safe and could breathe again.

A few days later, he was followed by two hooded figures who saw him go into the house the Ministry had provided for him. He then realised his father had somehow found out what he had done; he quickly returned to the Council and asked for protection. McGonagall, who had taken it upon herself to watch over him, offered him the vacant spot as the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts. He would not only have an income, but would also be safe from his father and the Death Eaters. Behind the secure walls, he knew he couldn’t be reached.

Anya heard him talk intently, their hands intertwined and their cheeks blushing from the steam their teas released. She pretended she didn’t realise when his voice grew hoarse as he talked about his mother or how his eyes shone as he remembered the days after he had been found by the dark wizards; she just looked at him in the eyes and let him know she was listening.

There were things that still didn’t make sense to her: McGonagall had been so eager to defend him, yet not only a year later she had asked Anya to spy on him. Why the sudden change of attitude? Was there something else Draco wasn’t telling her?

But looking into his eyes, she could see he had finally decided he trusted her. His shoulders were no longer tense and he was leaning against the wall, still holding her hand, smiling at her in such a peaceful manner that she felt like grabbing his face and kissing him senseless. After everything she’d heard, after all he had gone through, he had decided to break down all the walls and let her in.

And as she rested her head on his shoulder, feeling his finger drawing circles on her hand and smelling the sweet scent of the rain, she realised it was enough for now.


	34. Legilimens

The weeks prior to the final exams were always the most chaotic times at Hogwarts: fifth and seventh years were rarely seen somewhere other than the library or their common rooms and the rest of the students were trying their best to keep up with the piles of revision homework their professors were giving out. There wasn’t a time of the year when Prefects and the Head Boy and Girl gave out as many detentions or deducted as many points as during those weeks; for laughing too loud, running noisily down the corridor or just breathing too hard in the wrong direction.

Those weeks weren’t an exception for Anya and her friends; they spent most of their time in the seventh-year Slytherin’s dormitory, where Ari was trying his best to focus on school as his health quickly deteriorated with every passing day. Since every other Slytherin was in the library or the common room as the rest of the school, they could sit on the other beds or lay on the floor, stomach against the wooden floor and books sprawled all around them. They would take turns to go down to the kitchen and bring food up and then, continue studying. More than once they had to rush into the bathroom to hold Ari under the shower and hope his heart didn’t finally burn through his skin, that was looking thinner and thinner. He could barely get up from bed without help.

Only one more week until he could take the potion. There was still time.

On that particular day, they were all preparing their Charms exam. Anya had already taken her Astronomy exam (and she didn’t know how to explain to her friends that her least favourite subject had turned into one of the ones she enjoyed the most: she couldn’t tell them it was all because she had been receiving private lessons from a certain blonde professor whose eyes glittered every time he talked about the stars), as well as her Transfiguration and Herbology ones. Unsurprisingly, she had done great in all of them and was ahead on her studying for Professor Flitwick’s exam, so she was helping Ginny practice the charms they had to perfect before Thursday.

Ginny had begged Anya to take a break and she was playing with Sofía, who always followed them around whenever they needed to study. Anya looked away from that scene and instead, fixed her worried eyes on Ari. He was discreetly looking at Ky, whose head was bent over a book, and he opened his mouth and closed it again several times.

“Thomas,” Anya called his name, looking at him. “What is it? Spill.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know that look. Say whatever’s on your mind or I won’t be able to concentrate,” she replied, leaning against one of the posters on the Slytherin’s bed.

All of them looked up at him, expectantly. Ky’s hand flew to his and she intertwined her fingers with the boy’s, encouraging him to speak up.

“Well, it’s just…” he began and then, looked away. “I’ve been practicing that Meteorology Charm you taught me, Anya, and I cast it to check the weather for next Tuesday, just to see if there will be a lightning storm.”

“And?” Ky asked, eagerly. They were so close.

“Well, there won’t be,” he replied, sadly. “The next lightning storm is three weeks away. And we all know I don’t have that much time.”

The whole room fell silent, as even Sofía stopped purring. The full extent of their situation was finally starting to sink in and neither of them was willing to give up on helping their friend, who looked as frail as they had ever seen him. No one wanted to talk about it, but the idea of death hung in the air in every single one of their conversations and infiltrated their thoughts at the most random times. No words were good enough to assure their friend he would be fine; they didn’t know if that was true.

Finally, Ky was the one to speak: “Ari Thomas, you’re mad if you don’t think I would create a fucking thunderstorm if that means you won’t leave me.”

They all smiled at their friends as Ari, with a crooked smile, grabbed his girlfriend’s face and kissed her deeply.

“Kiyomi Sato, if I make it through this, I’m putting a ring on your finger and I won’t ever let you take it off,” he replied, brushing some stray hairs from her face.

“Then you better live, because I look bloody smashing in white.”

Luna sighed and Marcus was beaming at their two friends.

“I know how to cast Weather Charms,” Anya replied, ever so eager to fix things. “You’ll have your lightning storm.”

Ari smiled gratefully at her and Ginny, who was never one for sweet words, simply yelled: “Group hug!”

A second later, their limbs were tangled over Ari’s bed, their books forgotten, and they were laughing, careful not to squish the Slytherin’s chest. Ginny was tickling Luna, Marcus was ruffling Ari’s hair and Ky was hugging Anya; the six of them, against all odds, against all hardship.

Anya, Luna and Ginny disentangled themselves as they gathered their books for their next class. Suddenly, with a light whoosh, a grey owl came down from one of the ventilations and landed in front of the Gryffindor girl, who eagerly untied the letter attached to its leg. She turned the letter around and read the name on the back; a wide smile lit up her face.

“Who is it?” Anya asked, casting a sideway glance at Luna.

“Oh, just… Harry,” Ginny doubtfully replied. “We’ve been owling for some days now.”

Luna started shoving her books into her bag carelessly and Ginny watched, all traces of a smile wiped off from her face.

“That’s great!” Anya replied, quickly. “We’ll leave you to it, then. Come, Lu, let’s get to class.”

She followed her friend down the stairs and out of the common room. Luna’s pace was usually slow; whenever she went she strolled and took in everything around her, not seeing the point of hurrying or else she’d miss the wonders only she saw all around them: that time, Anya had to take longer strides in order to be able to walk next to her. She couldn’t take her eyes off her, worried every bit of information she had learned that day was too much for her.

Luna realised, as she always did.

“Don’t look at me like that, Anya.”

“Like what?”

“As if you feared I could turn to glass and break at any moment,” she replied, her wise eyes meeting her friend’s. “I’ve endured worse.”

Anya hugged her shoulders and kissed her temple. “I know you have, Lu. I’m here, though, if that’s worth anything.”

“It’s worth everything,” she replied, leaning her head against Anya’s shoulder. “I just wish some choices were easier and didn’t require people getting hurt.”

Anya knew her friend didn’t want to talk about it, so she just held her closer as they walked towards their Defence Against the Dark Arts class.

As they neared the classroom, Anya’s heart began thumping loudly on her ears, as it always did for the last weeks whenever she knew she was about to see Draco. She sat down next to Luna in one of the middle desks and tried to steady her heartbeat.

The door closing behind her meant he had arrived. She tried to act casual and stared ahead, resisting the urge to turn around. His back was the first thing she saw and then, when he faced the class, his eyes scanned the room until they landed on her. He managed a small smile and Anya, knowing all his classmates would be looking to the front of the class, winked at him. He brushed his lips with his tongue.

“Afternoon, everyone,” he began, finally managing to take his eyes off her. “Since we’re just a few days away from your Defence Against the Dark Arts NEWT and we’ve already covered everything, I figured today we could try to practice some more advanced magic. Before the lesson ends, you can ask any questions you may have regarding the topics covered by the exam.”

A murmur rose from the students at the words “advanced magic”. They were already seventh years, so they had _seen_ advanced magic; what could be more complicated than what they had already learned?

Ignoring the hushed voices, Draco turned around and pointed his wand at the board. The white chalk rose up in the air and began writing by itself over the black surface, with a flourished handwriting that Anya recognised from the note he had once sent her and she had since kept in the drawer of her nightstand (although even the thought of admitting it out loud, of telling him that she had kept the note where he invited her to his office so long ago, made her nervous; she would never admit to him that she had liked him all along). The white letters started appearing and the air filled with excitement as the students read the single word against the dark background:

_Legilimency._

“So,” Draco said, once the students had given him their undivided attention. “Can someone tell me what exactly is the art of Legilimency?”

Several hands rose up in the air, some more certain, some shaky with doubt. Anya knew the answer too and her hand was up next to Luna’s.

“Yes, Rodríguez,” he pointed at her.

“Legilimency is the act through which one can navigate another person’s mind and see their memories and thoughts. The Legilimens can dive into their mind and choose what to see and what information they want to gather.”

“Excellent as per usual, Rodríguez,” he replied. “Ten points for Ravenclaw.”

“Thank you… _sir_ ,” Anya answered, with a malicious smile.

She sensed Draco tensing up at her words and he gave her a look that would mean nothing to the rest of the class, but for her, it was clear: “ _We’re going to talk about this later.”_

He cleared his throat and started pacing around the room. “If one were to cast it, which spell should they use?”

Again, several hands rose up in the air. He casually stopped next to Anya, and pretended to debate internally who he’d choose.

Anya almost jumped from her seat when she felt Draco’s hand next to her arm, which was resting on the desk, as he leant on it and looked around the class.

“Rosier,” he finally signalled.

“The spell is _Legilimens,_ sir,” the Slytherin replied. “It presents itself as a transparent wave.”

As Rosier spoke, Draco’s ring finger quietly slid towards Anya’s arm and started drawing circles on her skin, just where her robe ended and her wrist showed underneath the fabric. Alarmed, she looked at him; he was still staring at the student who was speaking and bore an inscrutable bored expression. Anya felt her heart begin to race in her chest. She knew their bodies covered his actions from the rest of the class.

“Very well, Rosier,” he said and looked at the class again, edging away from Anya, but still standing next to her.

“No points for me, sir?” he asked with a smile, trying to look friendly.

Draco looked at him and raised an eyebrow. Rosier went pale.

“No, Rosier, no points for you. Need I remind you the reason why you’re punished until the ending of the school year? I only give out points to people who deserve them. You just did the bare minimum,” he sneered, without hesitation, as Rosier’s cheeks grew red.

Anya heard a quiet laugh to her left and when she looked, she saw Ginny staring at him in awe.

“Next question,” he said, still lazily leaning against Anya’s desk. “Is there a way to stop a Legilimens from penetrating one’s mind.”

More hands were raised. Draco chose someone from the other side of the room and he turned his whole body to the left, his knee making contact with Anya’s leg.

“Yes, Macmillan.”

He looked interested in his answer, and yet his knee was slowly moving up and down her leg, with a movement so gentle it was barely noticeable. His pinkie finger was once again on her skin and she tried her best not to look flustered. Even the barest touch made her skin catch fire.

“One could practice the art of Occlumency, sir,” Harry Macmillan replied, hesitantly. “It allows you to close your mind against a Legilimens. You can either try to clear your mind, practice a defensive spell or, for more skilled witches and wizards, create false memories or thoughts that can throw off whoever’s trying to penetrate their mind.”

“Excellent, Macmillan,” he said as he finally walked away, leaving Anya’s heart about to burst out of her chest. “Ten points for Hufflepuff.”

He finally reached his desk and announced: “Today, we’ll put this theory into practice. One will try to break into their partner’s mind and the other will try to block them. I will demonstrate first.”

He scanned the room, once again, and Anya saw a mischievous glint that turned his eyes darker. That couldn’t be any good.

“Rodríguez, since you were the first to answer. May I use your mind as a demonstration?”

Anya could’ve killed him with the force of her stare. She got up and, thankfully, her heart had slowed down its rate and she could walk perfectly fine towards him. She stood next to him and wondered what he was up to.

“Now, Rodríguez,” he said, looking straight at her. “I’m going to try to break into your mind. Here’s what I need you to do. Excuse me.”

He walked the distance that separated them, carefully moved the hair that hid her ear from view and whispered into it: “Let’s see if I can finally know what goes on in that pretty head of yours. Nod to pretend you understood what I told you.”

Anya pressed her nails to the palm of her hand, trying to keep her cheeks from giving her away. She nodded, weakly at first, but then, as an idea formed into her head, she smiled at him. For a moment, Draco looked confused.

“ _Two can play this game_ ,” she thought and stood in front of him, pretending to hold her wand but knowing she wouldn’t even attempt to stop him from reading her mind.

What Draco couldn’t have known is that he had sealed his doom by choosing Anya to demonstrate; Anya had been born into one of the wealthiest wizarding families in South America and, as an heir, had been watched carefully by her grandparents, who suspected she could be the one to tarnish their reputation. Time and time again, they had used Legilimency against their own granddaughter whenever they asked a question she didn’t want to answer. It was then that Anya’s parents had taught her the art of Occlumency; at first, it was only so their daughter could choose what to tell people and she could have her own secrets. But as her lessons progressed, Anya began getting better and, in the end, she managed to learn how to manufacture her own fake memories for others to see. She got so good at it that there was no telling which memories were true and which were made up.

Draco had no idea what he had got himself into.

They stood face to face, both wands drawn, although Anya had no intention of using her own. Draco counted down from three and she felt him entering her mind; she politely opened the door for him and then, the show began.

_Draco was walking towards the Ravenclaw common room, his tailored black suit merging with the darkness of the night as he quickened his pace, eager to get to his destination. The corridors were suspiciously empty of students and he could get to the Ravenclaw Tower without being intercepted by anyone._

_He hesitated before the gigantic knocker, knowing he’d had to solve a riddle to get inside; he was too impatient for that. Luckily, as if reading his mind, the huge door opened before him and behind the opening stood Anya. The common room was also empty: there were abandoned books everywhere, loose sweaters and pillows near the fire, as if there had been people sitting just minutes before he got there._

_But none of that mattered; Draco had eyes only for Anya._

_It was strange not seeing her in her black and blue uniform or her usual sweaters. Instead, she was wearing a silk, black robe that barely brushed her knees. It was tightly tied around her body, cinched around her waist and highlighting all the curves in her body: her chest, aligned with her waist, wide hips and the upper part of her legs. Her hair was lazily falling behind her neck, her waves looking wild and shiny under the dim light that illuminated the room. Draco looked at the table near the fireplace and noticed there was a plate with a peach cut in half._

_“Am I interrupting something?” he asked, pointing with his head towards the table._

_“You’re just in time,” she responded, cryptically. “Everyone else is off for the night.”_

_If Draco had been in any other situation, he would’ve probably wondered why were they alone in the common room; he was too busy with the view to even stop and think about it._

_Without looking back, Anya sat on the armchair and patted the space next to her. He diligently followed and couldn’t help but notice how the upper part of her garments opened with every one of her movements and exposed the lace that covered her cleavage. It was red, which contrasted beautifully against her skin and her black robe, and looked complicated to take off, with all its laces and bands that rested on her chest; he had to think about anything else so he would stop imagining the matching underwear underneath the thin layer of clothing._

_She seemed to be enjoying the way his eyes were undressing her; she continued to cut the peach in front of her as if it was the most normal situation. Once the fruit was all peeled, she stuck the knife into one of the pieces and held it in front of Draco’s mouth, looking darkly into his eyes, seemingly unaware of how the juice was dripping down her arm. She was simply staring, but it felt as if she had been pointing her wand at him and casting the Imperius Curse; he could do nothing but obey. He leant forward and accepted her offering and not once did her eyes leave his. Once he pulled back again, she smiled a wicked smile and took the knife to her mouth, licking off the remaining juice from its blade. Draco’s heart was beating loudly in his chest. She then proceeded to lick her fingers clean, carefully, and rested back on the armchair._

_Draco couldn’t take it anymore; he didn’t care if someone went into the common room, he just knew he wanted her. He slid closer to her body and placed his hand on her knee, carefully making his way upwards. Just as he was about to reach the hem of her silk robes, Anya’s hand grabbed his and stopped it, shaking her head._

_“Not tonight, Draco,” she said, instead, as she quickly straddled his lap. “You’ve had all the fun. It’s my turn now.”_

_His first thought was that she must’ve put him under some kind of trance; he couldn’t take his eyes off hers, off her beautiful body, and his mouth had gone dry._

_“You will stay still. Nod if you understand,” she said, tracing his jaw with her index finger._

_He quickly nodded. She got closer to his face and kissed him all over: his cheeks, his forehead, the tip of his nose, down his jawline and neck. Everywhere but his lips. One of her hands was in his hair, pulling as she moved his head to where she needed it to be, and the other was swiftly unbuttoning his shirt. Once his hand tried to travel down her back, but she bit hard on his neck and he stopped. With unnatural speed she undid his tie and, looking at him in the eyes the entire time, grabbed both his wrists and bind them together behind his back with it._

_Draco was about to complain that he thought it wasn’t fair, but Anya was faster: “One more word and I’ll conjure ropes.”_

_He felt silent again._

_She managed to unbutton the rest of his shirt and then, her kisses went down his torso. She took her time as she nibbled, bit and licked as she pleased, until all Draco could do was beg in a hoarse voice._

_“Please, Anya, I’m about to—”_

_She silenced him with a deep kiss and then, slid her mouth towards his ear. On top of his quick breathing, Draco could hear her words: “I didn’t know you were so eager to be at my mercy.”_

Draco lowered his wand and broke the connection. He knew that what felt like long minutes in his mind, were mere seconds in reality. He could feel his ears about to go red and, worst of all, he _knew_ that fake memory had a huge effect on him. He quickly bent down to grab a piece of parchment that had fallen from the table and used that as an excuse to sit behind his desk, which just happened to cover his body from his waist down.

“Did I do good, professor?” Anya asked, seemingly eager for his approval.

He had to clear his throat because he wasn’t sure his voice would manage to sound steady. “Yes, Rodríguez, that was a nice first attempt.”

Her eyes looked surprised to hear his praise, but he recognised a mischievous glimmer that made his heart race again.

“Great, now that everybody’s seen how it’s done, please practice with your partners.”

Luckily, no one seemed to have realised anything strange had occurred. Anya walked back to her seat, not before quickly turning her head and winking.

Draco found himself smiling, despite the fact that his heart hadn’t been able to slow down after the memory Anya showed him. And once again, when everyone was distracted, she looked back at him, with a playful half-smile, and he couldn’t help but bite his lip and think to himself how much he wished the class would end right that moment and it could be just the two of them in an empty room.


	35. Complications

It was early in the afternoon and Anya was trying to make her way towards her dormitory. Considering it was a Monday, the common room was too crowded and she wondered why wasn’t everyone at lunch. There were murmurs from every corner and people huddling and discussing things she couldn’t hear. She made her way as she chanted “let me through, I’m a Head Girl” and stopped suddenly when she realised everyone’s eyes were pointed at her own dormitory. She resumed her walking, quickening her pace, her heart racing; nothing good could be going on if there were that many people trying to catch a glimpse.

She skipped the last few steps until she reached the door of the seventh-year girls’ dormitory and there, she was met with a gruesome scene: her side of the room was completely destroyed. Her mattress was on the floor, its sheets stained red next to it, her trunk’s contents had been carelessly spilled and her books were open and sprawled across the room. She saw Marcus was already there, kneeling next to what looked like a black, thin pillow.

She walked a few steps closer and realised that it wasn’t a pillow: it was Sofía, her loyal black cat, who was laying unnaturally still on the floor and whose chest was inflating and deflating, luckily, but at a very slow rate.

“Sofía!” she shouted, making everyone who hadn’t seen her enter the room jump.

She ran towards her friend and kneeled beside him; she felt her robes getting wet with whatever substance she had kneeled on, but she didn’t care.

“What happened? Who did this? What happened to my cat?” she asked, flustered and at the verge of hyperventilation, as she petted Sofía, who was struggling to keep her eyes open.

“Hey, Anya, try to calm down,” Marcus replied.

He knew the signs of an impending panic attack, having been the one to calm her down so many times before, so he knew exactly what to do: he grabbed her face with both his hands and forced her to look away from her cat. Once she was looking into his eyes, his thumbs drew circles on her cheeks and he breathed in and out calmly, motioning her to follow his rhythm.

Once he was sure she had calmed down, he spoke again: “To answer your questions, a third year found me and asked me to come with him because one of your roommates found your dormitory like this. Apparently no one saw who it was, although I have reason to believe that second year over there was hit with a _Confundus_ charm.”

Anya looked at where Marcus was pointing and saw Luna hugging a second year girl, who looked flustered and whose eyes were unfocused. She would have time to ask around later.

“And Sofía?” she asked again, still petting the hurt black cat.

“Found her like this, too. But the only thing that hasn’t been searched is your nightstand and I found her right in front of it, so my best guess is that she tried to prevent whoever was here from getting their hands on whatever you’re keeping in that locked drawer. The blood you just kneeled over is probably from the same person that did this to her.”

“We have to get her to Hagrid, fast,” she answered, already on her feet, grabbing one of the shredded sheets and gently wrapping Sofía with it.

“I can do that. Don’t you want to check if there’s anything missing?” Marcus asked.

“I can check later, now I have to—”

“Something important could be missing,” he insisted, and for a moment, Anya thought his eyes had diverted towards her nightstand. But he couldn’t possibly know.

She sighed and cleared her head; she wasn’t thinking straight and if anyone could help her cat, it was Hagrid. “Fine, you take her and I will assess the damage and report back to McGonagall.”

Marcus hugged her briefly by the waist and Anya could feel the reassuring weight of his hand near the front pocket of her robes; he then carefully took Sofía from her arms and made his way out, skipping some steps and trying to get to their Care of Magical Creatures’ professor fast. She was about to ask Luna if she could help clear the way so that she could investigate whether anything was missing when Ginny, who Anya hadn’t noticed until that moment, started shouting at the curious students to leave them alone. With one last concerned look, Luna went out of the room too and she was finally left alone.

The first thing she did was undoing the locking spell she had placed on her nightstand: she knew that wouldn’t keep any powerful witch or wizard away from its contents, but she paired it with a Muggle lock that required a code, and that way she could be sure it wouldn’t open with _Alohomora._ She suspected, however, that someone who had managed to get into her dormitory unseen must’ve been really powerful and maybe they would have succeeded in disclosing the secrets that her drawer held if it hadn’t been for Sofía. She sadly smiled and sent a silent prayer to the gods she had never believed in.

Once she got rid of the lock, she was relieved to find the Elder Wand was still in its place, intact. She couldn’t be sure, but the impostor had probably found out about the wand somehow and tried to steal it. She knew she wouldn’t be safe again, not until the failed-robber was caught: she decided to keep the Elder Wand with her at all times, knowing she’d duel anyone that tried to take it away from her. She had taken too many chances.

Her next step was going to McGonagall’s office in order to report the situation, although she probably already knew by then; if there was something that travelled faster than owls around Hogwarts, it was gossip. She went down to the common room, where there were still a few students whispering in smaller groups that gazed her way as soon as she stepped down the stairs. Ginny and Luna were there too, waiting for her, but she had to quickly dismiss them and told them they’d talk later. She carelessly ran across the castle, trying to keep her mind away from her agonizing cat, her life-long companion, down at Hagrid’s hut. She needed to focus and try her best to get to the bottom of the situation. She got to her Headmistress’s office and knocked on the door, still feeling her eyes sting from the remaining tears that she was determined not to shed. Before going in, she took off her school robes and held them at a safe distance from her body, not wanting to continue wetting her knee-high socks with the blood dripping from them.

Once inside, she was faced with McGonagall’s inquiring face; it was truly a sight to behold: Anya, looking distressed, holding her black and blue robes that were leaving a trail of blood behind her.

“Miss Rodríguez?” she asked, the letter she had been reading suspended mid-air. “What happened? Is that blood?”

“Yes, Professor, I…” she began responding but closed her mouth to take a few deep breaths. “Someone broke into my dormitory. The blood is the impostor’s, my cat, she… she stopped them and is being tended to by Hagrid.”

“Breathe, Rodríguez, will you?” she said as she walked towards the other side of her desk and pulled out the chair. “Here, sit down. I’ll make you a cup of tea.”

Anya could feel the motherly worry in her tone so she didn’t argue. She was still shaking as she sat down and carefully placed her robe away from her headmistress’s papers. She gratefully accepted the cup of tea and it took her a few sips for her voice to be steady enough to speak again.

“Did they take anything?” McGonagall finally asked.

“I’m not sure. I don’t think so,” she replied, hesitantly.

“Was there anything in your dormitory worth taking? Maybe something that held some value?” her headmistress insisted, anxiously.

Anya was faced, once again, with the same decision: to do the right thing and tell McGonagall about the Elder Wand and surely having it taken away, never discovering why it showed itself to her, or to keep it a secret still, until she could figure out the kind of magic that bind her to that powerful object.

“I can’t see why they would want to take anything, I only have books and my clothes,” she replied, making up her mind in just a second.

“And you’re completely sure there wasn’t _anything_ else? In your trunk, under your bed, your nightstand?” McGonagall asked once more. “I need to know everything you can tell me so we can resolve the matter.”

“Nothing, Professor,” she lied again.

McGonagall sighed and leant back on her chair, holding her cup of tea between both her hands. Anya thought she must be imagining it, but she seemed older than she had been at the beginning of the year: her grey hair was brighter against the black of her pointed hat, the bags under her eyes more prominent and she could swear she could count new wrinkles near the corners of her eyes, her mouth and her cheeks. She realised the aftermath of the War must have been what drained her energy: as much as Anya herself had her youth taken away, Minerva McGonagall had many of her students, colleagues and acquaintances ripped off from her life too.

“Professor,” she spoke again, remembering what she had to do. “I brought my school robes just in case it would be of any use to identify whoever broke into our dormitory.”

McGonagall looked at the sodden piece of clothing for the first time since Anya arrived and, for a moment, she thought she could see her eyes light up.

“That’s a great idea, Rodríguez,” she praised her, motioning her to bring it forward.

Anya did and she watched as her Professor grabbed it with one hand and, with the other, pointed her wand at the fabric and the blood stain floated in the air, suspended by an invisible string. Anya marvelled at the sight and, as gruesome as it may have been, couldn’t look anywhere else. She was so mesmerized by the little particles floating as if they were snowflakes that she didn’t realise her Professor had conjured a small vial, where she ended up placing the flecks of blood for further investigation. She handed the robe back to Anya and she put it back on, feeling considerably lighter now that the blood didn’t weigh her down.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Rodríguez?” McGonagall asked.

“No, Professor, I believe that is all. If you’ll excuse me, I need to check up on my cat,” she replied, grabbing one last biscuit.

McGonagall looked as if she was trying to say something: her mouth opened and closed a few times and Anya saw her clenched fists on her lap. She waited, patiently, but in the end she seemed to decide it wasn’t worth sharing: her face relaxed, her eyes went soft and she smiled at her student.

“Of course, Rodríguez, of course. Best wishes to you and her,” she answered, in an uncharacteristically void tone.

Anya smiled back and left her office, with only one thought in mind: to go to Hagrid’s and be with her cat. Deep down, she didn’t want to do it at all; she was afraid she might come across news she wasn’t ready to hear. She wanted a distraction, something that could give her an excuse not to check on Sofía just yet, but couldn’t find any.

She was absorbed in her own thoughts and walking mechanically towards the gamekeeper’s hut, without giving it much thought. Suddenly, she felt a strong hand cover her mouth and another one grabbing her by her waist. She was about to start kicking when she was suddenly pushed into a dark broom closet.

“Hello, darling,” she heard and her body suddenly relaxed as she recognised the voice.

Draco removed his hand from her mouth, although he kept his other hand locked on her waist.

“Merlin, you almost gave me a fucking heart attack,” was the first thing Anya replied, her heart beating so loud she feared she might be discovered in that compromising situation.

“I’m sorry, love, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he replied. “I just wanted to see you.”

The cupboard was still in the dark, the only source of light coming from the thin crack between the door and the floor. Anya was about to reply but her breath hitched as she felt his wet lips kissing her neck; in the complete silence of their small hiding place, all she could hear were his kisses going down her neck and dangerously nearing her sweater’s neckline.

“How distasteful, Draco, to be a professor and still sneak around damp cupboards to snog,” she said, trying her best not to make any strange noises that would sound bizarre coming from a seemingly empty closet. “I guess the rumours about your school years _were_ true.”

She felt him laugh against her throat and her stomach lurched at the sound of his muffled voice; it felt like a breath of fresh air after feeling like she was drowning all day. His hands were both on either sides of her waist and she felt her heart racing again when he uncovered a bit of skin and started drawing circles with his fingers.

“It’s not my fault, you know; there’s this girl that makes me melt every time I see her and causes any trace of sanity to leave my body.”

Anya was glad they were in the dark; she felt her cheeks grow hot and she bit her lip, hard, supressing a smile. She knew she should be worried, she should be anywhere else but there; with her cat, with Marcus, in her dormitory cleaning up the mess. But she also knew that she wanted to be with him, right at that moment, and briefly forget about everything else.

“She must be one dashing gal,” she teased.

“She’s the most beautiful of them all,” he replied between kisses.

At that, Anya probed in the darkness until she found his face and forced his mouth to meet hers. At first it was a single, long kiss, one Anya wouldn’t admit she needed; it then turned into something else entirely, their lips sloppily crashing against each other, his hands gripping tightly the fabric of her skirt and sliding up towards her ass and hers on his hair, pulling and tangling between the loose curls that formed at the nape of his neck.

Anya suddenly pushed his face back, feeling her chest rising and falling rapidly. “Draco, we can’t do this.”

“Merlin’s fuck, I thought we had already gone through th—”

“I meant,” she interrupted him. “We can’t do this _here._ Take me to your room, where there’s a door that can be locked.”

Anya couldn’t see his face, but the air around them changed; she knew he was smiling. He quickly gave her a peck on the cheek.

“That’s the only time I’ve ever been glad to hear you say that bloody phrase,” he replied. “Let’s get out of here.”

Anya straightened her skirt, just in case she encountered anyone, and then was the first to step out, looking left and right to make sure Draco was safe to leave the closet. When he did, he left straight for his room and Anya followed five minutes later, to avoid raising suspicion. As she walked towards him, her heart racing frantically in her chest, she was internally debating whether to listen to her brain, which was telling her she should be worrying about what had happened just an hour before, or her trembling knees, that were expectant, knowing what was about to happen.

And for once, she knew the answer: she needed to do this, her body longed for it, and she knew everything else could wait. Sofía was in good hands and there was nothing else she could do; her dormitory would still be a mess when she returned.

She opened the door to Draco’s office, which was also his bedroom, and before she could do anything, she felt his lips against hers once more; rough, eager and nabbing at her lower lip as if she was her first real meal in days. Anya gave in, unable to do anything but kiss him back, and he briefly pulled away. He locked the door behind them and then, carefully removed her school robes and placed them on one of his leather chairs. He did so with such gentleness that Anya was surprised when he lowered his lips again and met hers, rougher than before. His hands were promptly on her legs, travelling up and down their length, and his fingers grabbed her knee-high socks by the hem and let them clash against her skin, making Anya shiver in response. Her skirt was lifted and his hands never once stopped touching, finally deciding on grabbing her by her ass and lifting her in his arms as if she weighed nothing. She hooked her legs around his waist, making him grunt, and she felt every centimetre of her back being pressed against the hard wall, but that only made her deepen their kiss. Draco’s hands were squeezing as she let her own hands roam freely along his chest; his mouth left hers and he began kissing down her neck, using his tongue and teeth to help trace every corner of her skin. Anya could do nothing but sigh and pull at his hair, which made him come back more eagerly every time.

Without breaking their kiss, Draco carried her towards his bed; Anya left her shoes along the way and took off her glasses, placing them on his nightstand. He began kissing down her neck again, but this time, Anya stopped him. With one swift movement, she got up and pushed him against the wall that was next to his bed, forcing him to adopt a seating position. She straddled his lap and placed her hand on his throat, feeling the blood flowing beneath her fingers, but keeping it relaxed against his skin.

“Do you want me to do this?” she asked, suddenly self-conscious.

“Please,” he begged, his eyes as black as his unbuttoned shirt.

Both his hands pressed down on her hips and she kissed him roughly, applying pressure on the sides of his neck. Her other hand was busy with the remaining buttons and he did the same with her shirt; she mentally congratulated herself for having chosen one of her good sets of underclothing to wear that day. She began grinding on his lap, feeling his increasing heart rate against her chest, and his hands only pulled her down harder. She lowered her lips to his neck, only to hear the noises his throat made as she grinded harder and faster. His hands were squeezing tightly and she knew he’d leave a mark; the sounds his mouth made only helped to turn her on more.

Without any warning, his arm hooked around her torso and he turned her around, making her head hit his pillow. He positioned himself between her legs and kissed down her torso, taking his time around the edges of her bra. With one hand he removed it and with the other, he massaged; his mouth wouldn’t stay still and Anya felt like, if he did, she wouldn’t be able to take it. The wetness of his lips travelled around both her breasts and she was arching her back, eager for more.

He lifted his head and looked at her in the eyes: “You look _so_ fucking good when you’re flustered for me.”

“Don’t let it get to your head,” she replied, cockily, and her hands were on his belt.

He helped her get his trousers out of the way and she took him in entirely, almost naked under the faint light that entered through his window. His hair was parted down in the middle, a single bead of sweat was about to melt into his eyebrow and his cheeks were as red as his lips. She suddenly wanted all of him, all at once.

Her hand was already travelling down his torso and towards the thin layer of clothing that kept him from being completely naked when his strong hand stopped hers.

“It’s my turn now,” he simply replied, grabbing both her hands in his and pinning them down behind her head.

He kissed down her thighs and with every kiss, he neared the hem of her red lingerie. Anya was already shuddering with expectation and he noticed; as he kissed, he began rubbing against the lace and Anya grabbed his sheets and squeezed them tightly. He rubbed until it was damp and then removed the piece of fabric, that lay forgotten on the floor. Anya’s back was already arched and she inhaled deeply when she felt his lips near her core; he put her legs on top of his shoulders, grabbed her hips and kissed her on the spot that made her let out a whimper. His fingers and his tongue knew exactly where to rub, where to lick and where to touch to make her beg for more; she grabbed his hair and pulled his head even closer to her body and Draco kept his eyes fixed on her face, although her eyes were closed and her head thrown back. Once Anya looked down and saw his grey eyes look at her from where he was still pleasuring her, and the sight of Anya flustered and biting her lip was enough to make him thrust even harder.

Anya’s heart was racing and her back was as arched as it could be, holding tightly onto Draco’s hair; she stayed still, motioned him not to stop and rejoiced in that high, the moment when she felt at the top of the world and like she could burst up in flames, all at the same time. She slumped onto the bed, her knees trembling in pleasure, and she finally opened her eyes.

“Can I..?” Draco asked after he kissed her, holding a condom.

“Fuck yes you can,” she replied, exhausted but eager to keep going.

That was all it took. In a second, he had unwrapped and secured the condom. Mustering all the strength she had left, which wasn’t a lot, Anya switched places once again and held him in place with her hand.

“What are you doing?” Draco questioned, between heavy breaths, his mouth contorted in a smirk.

“What does it look like? I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll be begging me to stop,” she replied.

“Unlikely,” he replied, grabbing her hips and licking his lips.

“Is that a challenge?” she asked and before he could say anything else, she had positioned herself on top of him.

He muttered some profanities under his breath as he buried his fingers on her skin, grabbing onto her waist and leaving red marks. Anya grabbed both his hands and intertwined their fingers, placing them on either sides of his head. She began moving up and down, slowly at first, only increasing her pace when he asked her to do so. She straightened on top of him, closing her eyes and going at a pace she was sure they were both enjoying; the sight of her, enjoying herself and pleasuring them both, drove Draco crazy; he began moving his hips at her rhythm, until they were both panting. When they were both about to reach their climax, Draco forced her head down and kissed her long and hard; he moaned against her mouth, which pushed Anya to go faster, and they both came undone as she collapsed against his chest.

Draco rolled her over to his side and they lay in bed, panting, facing each other. He brushed a strand of hair from her face and placed it behind her ear, letting his hand rest on the side of her face. His eyes were glowing and his mouth was relaxed in a smile for once and Anya thought he’d never seen someone so beautiful before.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, as he drew her closer to his body and buried his face in her hair.

“Nothing,” she replied, but then thought about it twice. “That you look really good right now, that’s all.”

She felt his laughter reverberate through his body. “Well, thank you. You’re a sight to behold too.”

She smiled and nuzzled into his arms and for a while, they just stayed there. Draco thought he would happily live in that moment forever.

He felt his eyes growing heavier and was ready to fall asleep when he heard her stomach growl.

“Anya?”

“Hm?”

“Do you want to eat something?”

“Oh, please, I’m famished” she replied, visibly relieved, and he just laughed before kissing her forehead and slowly getting up.

He was standing before his desk, as he assorted a plate of biscuits, when an owl came flying through the window and dropped a letter behind him. He bent over to pick it up and recognised the Headmistress’s seal on the envelope.

“Who’s owling you this late?” he heard Anya ask.

He turned around to answer, but his words got stuck in his throat when he saw her: her hair a mess, her lips slightly swollen and her torso covered by his shirt, which she had picked up and pulled over her neck. At that moment, he thought that was a sight he could get used to.

“McGonagall, apparently,” he replied, clearing his throat and smiling at her.

He quickly opened the letter and scanned the few lines written on it. Anya noticed a sudden change in his behaviour as he tensed and his eyebrows furrowed.

“What is it?” she asked, anxiously.

He looked at her and what she saw scared the girl: his eyes were no longer soft; his stare was furious.

“What the fuck does this mean, Anya?” he asked as he extended her the letter.

She grabbed it quickly and read:

_I kindly ask you to report back to my office after dinner is served; the Order needs you to disclose Professor Malfoy’s newest movements. Feel free to write down anything new that happened after your last report._

_Minerva McGonagall._

_Headmistress of Hogwarts._

Anya looked back at him, desperately, and saw him looking at the window opposite her; his jaw was clenched and his arms were folded.

“Draco, please let me explain,” she pleaded, as she got out of his bed.

“Out,” he simply ordered, still not looking at her.

“I promise it’s not what it seem—”

“Put your clothes back on and _fucking_ leave,” he repeated, using the cold tone she was so unused to hearing.

She got up and quickly gathered her clothes, that were scattered all around the room. Once she had dressed, he looked back at him, only to notice he was holding her school robes. She grabbed them and tried to come closer to him; he stepped away and she knew it was too late.

She left, feeling the tears blurring her vision, and walked aimlessly across the castle, until she was too far for him to hear her muffled cries. She resolved to go back to her common room and then go looking for her cat; she wouldn’t let anyone see her crying. She was already walking when she put her hands in her robes’ pockets, feeling for her wand and the Elder Wand.

She stopped dead in her tracks, frantically, as she urged her fingers to meet with the familiar wooden stick. It wasn’t there. Instead, there was only her wand and a piece of paper she didn’t remember having there that same morning.

She took it out and carefully read the lines; her eyes went wider as she began putting the pieces together.

She knew what it meant. She started running, hoping it wasn’t too late.


End file.
